Brotherhood of Trust
by R. J. Hardt
Summary: It turns out there's a thirteenth use for dragon's blood... Dumbledore changes Severus Snape's role in the war from spy to protector after deatheaters are spotted in Surrey. To do this Severus must put himself in close proximity to Harry. What's closer than brotherhood? Deageing. No slash/no ships. Minor swearing. Violence. Complete. Not beta'd.
1. Prologue

**Brotherhood of Trust**

 _By R. J. Hardt_

000

Prologue

June of 1990

Severus Snape squinted at the parchment in his hands. The lighting in Dumbledore's office was dim and the candle light flickered, making his eyes strain to focus on the script in the dim light. The air smelt faintly of dust, parchment, and beeswax. It tickled at his sinuses, threatening to make him sneeze.

"A thirteenth use for dragon's blood?" Severus mentally tallied and categorized the other potion ingredients on the parchment. His quick mind analyzed how they would have to be combined, their effects, and magical properties. "A cosmetic youth potion? Please tell me you're not so vane Albus. And exactly how does the dragon's blood fit into this?"

"The final ingredient is missing from the list," Dumbledore smiled, impressed and more than a little proud that Severus was able to come close to the potion's true purpose. "And it's not intended for me."

"Why on earth would you need dragon's blood for this?" Severus held the parchment closer so he could better see, squinting. The flourished script and green ink favored by Dumbledore didn't help. He felt an eyestrain headache building, the pain all too familiar. "If I'm to guess what properties the dragon's blood imparts to this potion, I'd say permanence. It fixes the effects of the ingredients it interacts with. Pixy dust imparts change, or illusion, mostly used in de-aging cosmetics. The stink sap is used in medicinal potions, for repairing cellular damage related to ageing. This potion is to impart the illusion of youth."

"The dragon's blood is used to dissolve the final ingredient and to affix it to the stink sap," from behind his desk, Albus smiled. However, it didn't reach his eyes. There was a sad quality to it. "I would like you to brew it."

"Why?" Severus felt his heart skip a beat. He'd only seen that expression on the old man's face several times and each time it didn't turn out well for him. He had a sense that more was going on than an overly complicated cosmetic potion. For the first time in years, he was tempted to refuse a task.

"Do you trust me?"

Severus almost said yes, answering reflexively, but stopped himself. Did he really trust him? He had come to respect and care for the man, but trust him unconditionally? No. "I trust your intentions," Severus sidestepped.

"Please, Severus." Albus took off his glasses, not missing the evasion. "It's important. Please make the potion."

"What does the potion do?" The hair on the back of his neck stood. Albus rarely pleaded for anything.

"Do remember what you promised me nine years ago? What you said you would do for me? For her?"

"You know I do." Snape felt his temper rise. Did Albus trust him as little as he did the old man? Did Albus have to remind him of his past mistakes? "I gave you my oath. Should He return-"

"-when Voldemort returns," Albus interrupted. "I need to increase the protections surrounding her son."

"You promised he was well cared for. You assured me of the blood wards, that he was being watched."

Albus pushed a newspaper article towards Severus. It was from yesterday's edition.

 ** _Deatheaters Attack Surrey Neighborhood,_**

 ** _Muggles Left Mystified, Squib Injured_** ****

"You left the Boy Who Lived under the magical protection of a squib?" He bit back his temper. Yesterday morning Severus didn't pay the article much mind. It didn't happen often, but occasionally remnants of Deatheaters sparked trouble. Squibs were a favorite target.

"The wards on Harry's home were undisturbed and I believe the attack to be coincidental. However, the time is coming when little Harry will come to Hogwarts. He'll need more protection, preferably from someone close, from someone who can guard him at all times."

"I've agreed to dedicate my life to protecting the child. I'll watch over him while at school."

"That won't be enough. What about the summers? Hogsmead weekends? They came close to his sanctuary, but next time we may not be so lucky."

"Preposterous!" Suddenly Severus knew the purpose of the potion. "It's impossible to de-age someone. Glamors can be seen through. Potions temporarily apply an illusion, again easily seen through or reversed. Transfigurations can be undone and wear off. This potion will never work!"

"As I said, the potion is missing one last ingredient," Albus opened his desk drawer and pulled out a blood red object. He set it on his desk with a heavy thump. It was a smallish stone, almost like a ruby, but iridescently glowing with an inner magical light.

"Put that thing away!" Severus hissed in a vain attempt to steer this conversation away from Albus's foolish new plan and towards a slightly older but just as foolish plan. Little did he know, the stone was paramount to the conversation at hand. "You said you were planning on securing that thing in a vault at Gringotts until it could be destroyed!"

"The Philosopher's Stone works by distorting time, essentially reversing or stopping localized time for the consumer of the Elixir of Life."

Snape was a man of many words, but he couldn't think of a single one. It felt like his heart would stop beating when he realized the implications of Dumbledore's words.

"The stone will dissolve in dragon's blood. Dissolve it and add it to the potion five minutes before consumption, one dram's worth of serum for each year. Your body will revert to what it was when you were about ten. Nicolas assures me you will retain your memories despite the physical changes."

"No!" Severus slapped the parchment and newspaper article onto the desk. Fawkes jumped on his perch, startled, at the sound. Balefully, the bird glared.

"He needs more than a distant body guard. Last May he apparated a short distance. Several weeks before that, he transfigured his teacher's hair. Protecting the boy is only half of what needs done. He needs guidance and training to control his magic."

"I can aid you and the boy best by watching over him from inside the threat. We both know that."

"I disagree. Your talents would best be utilized at the boy's side."

"Using me to tutor and babysit the brat is a waste! Don't throw away the opportunity of having a set of eyes on the inside. Without my contacts through the Nott's and Malfoys you would have never known about the activities in Albania."

"The probability of your not surviving increases the longer you maintain this guise. I need you alive. I _want_ you to live."

"We both know I signed up for my own death the moment I joined Him. I signed it again when I came to you. I signed it a third time when you had me testify at those trials. Whether it happens five years from now from His return, or nine years ago from a dementor's kiss is inconsequential."

"I had originally planned on asking you to return to Voldemort at his return," Albus sighed. "I once believed in your need to pay penance for your actions. I was going to allow this self-destructive path. However, that was before I came to know you, before I've seen your soul."

"My soul? Rubbish. Spying was the deal we made, in exchange for protection for Lilly's child."

"I would have protected Lilly and her child regardless. She was in the Order, already under my protection when you came to me."

Severus hadn't realized it nine years ago, but of course knew that now. "Regardless, I traded my life for Lilly's child."

"No, not exactly. You swore only your loyalty to me, to do as I ask. We both assumed I would eventually ask espionage of you, but circumstances have changed." Albus pushed the stone across his desk towards Severus. He glared at it, refusing to touch it. "I've made my decision. No more espionage. It's all too likely your efforts will be in vain."

"No. The risk is worth it," unconsciously he grasped his marked forarm. The mark was still there, speciously faint, nearly invisible. Its dark magic thrummed under his skin. "In any case, the mark can't be erased. The mark is forever."

"You're right, it can't be erased. Even if it could, a magical imprint on your soul will remain, much like a curse scar. However, I believe the physical manifestation of the mark, the tattoo, will not survive. You'll literally be in your ten year old body, as it was years ago. You'll age again from that point in time."

"No." Snape refused to entertain the possibility of ridding himself of the mark, of being free from Him. Suddenly, he realized he was grasping his wrist and let his arms drop to his lap for a moment. Then he crossed his arms, as if self-consciously trying to decide what to do with his hands.

"Severus…."

"STOP ASKING ME OLD MAN!" Snape stood and began to pace. "You do not realize what you're asking of me! Every time I see the brat's name, his blasted picture is in the paper, or in a history text it all comes back! He reminds me of James Potter. He reminds me of Lilly. He reminds me of Him. He reminds me of the things I did. I cannot bear... no, especially Potter's son."

"Regrettably, I've help you refine your occlumency in preparation for your foolish plans of redemption. I've witnessed your pain. I've seen your innermost thoughts and memories. I know the gravity of what I'm asking of you to do, and I know what I'm asking you to give up. I also know what you'll gain from this."

"I can't do it. I'm not strong enough."

"Your skills in occlumency are prodigious, Severus. I'd never met a child capable of learning the skill on their own. But you're using it in a way it isn't meant to be used," Albus sighed. It seemed that he was tire of this old argument. "The unhealthy suppression of your emotion is such that it erupts periodically. I find it perplexing that you allow James Potter to be a catalyst for this."

"We've had this argument before, and I don't need The Lecture now."

"Your emotions run deep and I understand why you're driven to occlumency. But it's unhealthy. It keeps you from working through them, ultimately stunting personal growth."

"We've been through this."

"Periodically your occlumency shields snap and your emotion breaks free. Rather than deal with them, you bottle them behind new shields," Albus patently continued. "Occlumency is draining, both in mind and magic. You can't do this indefinitely. Eventually your shields will shatter and you won't be able to bring them back up, leaving your mind and magic venerable to damage. I know what I speak of."

"I've had enough of this. Good evening." Severus turned towards the door, bottling his anger again. They had this argument before, and he refused to have it again.

"Fine Severus. I didn't want to do it this way. You've left me with no choice." Albus abruptly stood, holding his wand aloft as he incanted. "Invictious. You owe me a debt. I invoke thee, both of fidelity and life."

Severus froze, his hand on the doorknob. The words weren't loud, but they reverberated through his soul, like a gong. Albus called upon Old Magic, its influence thick in the air, filling the room with power.

"Almost nine years ago you begged me to protect Lily's life. You extended that request to her son, as you knew she'd fight to the death for her child. To this day, I continue to protect the boy, and will add to those protections through you."

Snape swallowed. For the first time in a decade he was afraid of Albus, a man he had come to think of as a close friend and mentor.

"You swore an oath of unconditional fidelity to me, to protect Harry Potter, and of loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix."

The air felt even thicker with magic.

"I shielded you from ministry prosecution and continue to shield you from Azkaban."

"Albus, please…." Each one of Albus's words sent a shard of ice through Severus's magic, leaving him cold and betrayed. He had to support himself against the wall, his occlumency useless and forgotten. Emotion swirled in his mind, freezing thought and reason.

"You will de-age yourself with this potion. You will use your youth to find a way to position yourself proximate to Harry Potter. You will use your position to protect him. You will tutor him in the necessary defensive skills and magics for him to survive an upcoming war. After you've established your new role, you will reduce the use of your occlumency to only when necessary. Recompense me by doing as I request, as you had vowed, so mote it be."

Snape's legs gave out and he slid down the wall, to sit on the floor. The one person he thought he could trust had betrayed him. He had once trusted his mother, but she was dead. He trusted Lilly, but she threw away their friendship over a rash mistake made in youth. Finally, he trusted Albus Dumbledore, but no longer. He also lost his only friend.

"The mark on your arm doesn't define you. Your soul is clean Severus, shielded by love," Dumbledore said. "Your love for Lilly drove you to make a mistake in your youth. That same love kept you from committing the atrocities your marked brethren committed. Love then drove you away from Voldemort."

Severus said nothing. He just glared at an unseen point across the room.

"I'm sorry it's come to this Severus. I've come to care for you. I don't want to lose you to this foolish notion of martyring yourself as my spy. I'm doing this as much for you as I am for Harry. I only hope that someday you'll realize this."

"Am I to assume I'm to follow the child to Hogwarts as a student?" his voice was quiet but strained.

"Yes."

"I don't have the money to pay for tuition." It was absurd. His life, his identity, his very reason for living, was coming apart and he was worried about money.

"Hogwarts will never refuse a student for lack of funds," Albus replied. Once, Severus would have described his voice as 'concerned' but no longer. "However, I don't think money will be a problem. It'll take several weeks for the potion to brew. I've been working on this project for the last year or so, and we'll use the remaining time for us to firm up the details."

It hurt that Albus referred to the systematic dismantling of his reason for existence a 'project.' It stung that he had been working on this 'project' behind his back. Slowly he climbed to his feet. His legs shook, but he took the six steps to Albus's desk. He pocketed the parchment.

"I'll begin that potion now. I don't keep dragon's blood in my stores. It'll have to wait." The amount of dragon's blood needed to cover the stone would cost a small fortune, certainly more than what was in his vault. He had the speclized permits needed for using dragon's blood, but not the financial means to procure it.

"I'll procure the blood. I trust you still have the research permits?"

"Then I'll take my leave," Severus stiffly nodded as he turned towards the door. "Owl me when you're ready for me to add the blood to the stone. Until then, I have a potion to brew and some affairs to put in order.

"Severus…."

"DON'T YOU DARE!" The numbness suddenly gave way to anger and resentment as his shields cracked a bit. Numerus nick-knacks rattled around the room. A glass on the desk cracked and water trickled out. "I will do as the magic demands, but no more."

"Very well," Albus said, but the words were lost as Snape slammed the door behind him. Severus never saw the tears in the old man's eyes.


	2. The First Room at the Top of the Stairs

**Chapter one**

The First Room at the Top of the Stairs

It had taken him most of the morning, but Harry Potter finally finished his chores. The lawn was mowed, the weeds were pulled, and the sprinklers were set out and watering the lawn. It was a hot summer day, and he wanted nothing more than a glass of water. Better yet, he wanted to sit under the cool spray of the sprinklers and let the dust and sweat wash off of him. The last time he did that Petunia wasn't happy, never mind Dudley spent the afternoon playing in the water.

Harry's aunt and uncle sat at the kitchen table, quietly arguing.

Something had happened, something important. His uncle was home early from work, and he almost never came home early. It must have been something bad, because neither of them noticed him. Usually, his aunt would be screeching at him not to track dirt into her precious kitchen.

"Godbrothers? What is that? Is that even a thing? I've never heard of such nonsense!"

"It must be something to _those_ people. They've outdated notions of kinship alliances and lordship houses. Medieval nonsense if you ask me."

"There must be something we can do about it. He's not even blood relation, either of ours. We're not running a foster care service for those people!" Vernon said quietly to aunt Petunia. "How about an orphanage?"

Harry held his breath and squeezed himself against the wall and doorjamb to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. About once a week Uncle Vernon threatened to send him to an orphanage. He never considered the threat to be real, until now.

"We can't!" She hissed. "They'll know! They've ways of spying on people!"

Harry thought they almost sounded scared, or worried. But that couldn't be right, could it? Over the years he'd head them mention 'those people,' but whoever 'those people' were they couldn't be that scary, could they?

"But he's going to be one of them, one of _those_ people," Vernon whispered. "What if the boy finds out? And where would we even put him? The two of them?"

Petunia pressed her lips into a thin line. "The boy's bound to find out sooner or later, and we can put them in Dudley's playroom. We'll just have to make sure they know we don't put up with that kind of nonsense in this house."

"We better figure it out, and quickly!" Uncle Vernon held up a funny looking yellowish piece of paper. "He'll be here any moment."

"It's only for the year, and then he'll be off to that freaky school you told me about."

"I'm not paying for that!" Vernon's face turned red at the thought of spending money.

"Do you want one of _them_ loitering about the house all year?"

"Well…." Vernon looked up, noticing Harry eavesdropping. "Boy!"

Harry jumped, startled. His uncle's face was still red. "Yes uncle Vernon?"

"What have I've told you about eavesdropping?"

Harry thought about that for a second. Had his uncle ever told him not to? Fidgety, he pulled at the threads of his baggy shirt. "Nothing that I can recall. Who are 'those people' you're talking about?"

"Don't ask questions! I've had enough of your cheek! Go to your…." Vernon stopped. He looked at his wife for inspiration, but found none at her tight lipped glare. "Go to Dudder's playroom!"

"And clean it?" Why would they send him to his cousin's play room instead of his cupboard? He usually wasn't allowed in Dudley's second room.

"Just go," Petunia said sharply.

"Can I have a drink of water first?"

"Go!" Aunt Petunia shrieked just as Uncle Vernon yelled, "now!"

Harry raced up the stairs. Just as he reached the playroom, the doorbell rang. He picked his way across the toy-strewn floor to the window and looked out at the visitors.

Outside was a boy roughly his age with black hair and a blue backpack. Next to him was the oldest man Harry had ever seen. There, they waited. Aunt Petunia still hadn't opened the door. He imagined that his aunt and uncle were quietly bickering, hoping that the two on the porch would decide to leave after a bit.

Harry watched as the boy shifted his weight from foot to foot impatiently. The old man put his hand on the boy's shoulder, but the boy shrugged it off with an angry glare. The dark look in the boy's eyes was enough to send a shiver though Harry's spine.

The bell rang again and then the door opened.

Ignoring Vernon's instructions, Harry ran to the top of the stairs so he could watch.

"Hello Petunia," the old man said as he gently pushed the reluctant boy into the house. The boy stumbled a bit, as if uncomfortable in his body. "It's been a long time. How are you?"

"I've been better." Aunt Petunia's face was pinched and tight lipped again. Harry thought she seemed both angry and afraid.

"I'm sorry to hear that," the old man said as he pulled papers out of a long, funny looking shirt. Harry squinted. It almost looked like a bathrobe, but it was hard to tell in the dim light of the Livingroom. Sometimes it was hard for him to see far away. "How's young Harry?"

"Fine. The boy is fine."

"Let's get this done and over with," Vernon snapped before the old man could reply. "I want you out of my house."

"I'm sure the paperwork is in order. If you both would just sign here, custody will transfer to you and your wife."

 _Custody?_ Harry gasped. Was that strange boy going to stay here? Studying the boy, Harry decided he seemed angry, glaring at his aunt and uncle. He scowled at everything, but the anger seemed to deepen at the old man. As if sensing his gaze, the boy glowered up at Harry. Their eyes met, and a pain shot through Harry's head, under his scar. He rubbed it with one hand, and the pain quickly faded. He missed the curious look the strange boy gave him.

"Ah! There's young Mister Potter now!" The old man beamed, finely noticing Harry atop the stairs. The Dursleys stiffly stood in place, staring at Harry. "Come and meet Stevie."

Harry slowly descended the stairs. As he came closer, he got his first good look at the boy. He had black hair. It was strait and scraggly, hanging in his eyes and past his collar. His eyes were a dark gray, so dark that they looked black. He was skinny, but tall. He wore black trousers and a black button-up shirt. Even his shoes were black. The black made him look washed-out and sickly, like he'd never seen the sun.

"Harry, this is Stephen Prince, your brother."

The new boy said nothing, only glared, making Harry feel uncomfortable. Somehow, he knew the boy hated him, hated him worse than the Dursleys did.

"There must be a mistake. I don't have a brother." The words felt intuitively right. He knew this boy wasn't his brother. The old man was lying.

The old man laughed. "You do, my boy, in a way. Stephen is your godbrother. Your mother was his godmother. Stephen's mother recently passed away and his estranged father's location is unknown, so he will be staying with you for a while."

"So does that mean I can live with him and his father when he's found?" The boy—Stephen—looked both startled and angry at the suggestion. Two spots of angry red colored his cheeks.

"Perhaps," the old man answered evasively. His body language changed a little, almost like he was concerned about something, but what?

"My mother knew his mother?" Harry asked for clarification.

"No. Your mother was close friends with Stephen's father. He's the one who named her as godmother."

Harry smiled. The old man was hiding something, but he didn't care. He also didn't care if the boy hated him. He had a big brother! He had family, of a sort. The new boy didn't want to be here, he was sure of that.

"Where may I deposit my things?" the boy spoke for the first time. His words were stiff and precise, almost sounding like a grown-up with a stick up his butt.

"Um, this was short notice. You can, er, put it in the first bedroom at the top of the stairs." For some reason the simple question seemed to throw Harry's aunt and uncle off course. "Harry, take him upstairs and show him. Stay up there until we call you."

"And shut the door!" Aunt Petunia called, as Harry climbed up the stairs.

* * *

Severus felt three sets of eyes follow him as he trailed after Potter. It was obvious that the boy walked as slowly as possible, hoping to eavesdrop on the argument that was sure to come from Petunia.

Petunia hadn't changed much. She was still bony and long necked. Her voice was shrill, just as he remembered. The fat man, he had never seen before, but his neck was so short it was almost nonexistent. The walls were plastered with pictures of what he assumed was the Dursley's son, who was nowhere to be seen.

Harry looked a lot like James, but without glasses. Of course, he had Lilly's bright green eyes and her nose. If not for his Occlumency shields, he knew he'd be lost in a sea of anger, hatred, fear and grief. He clamped down on his emotions, effectively turning them off.

Looking into those eyes was just as difficult as he thought it would be. He did his best to avoid them. It was a hard gaze to avoid, as Potter unabashedly stared at him in the way all children did when meeting a stranger.

From what Severus could tell, the upstairs held four bedrooms and a bathroom. The first room at the top of the stairs was small, and the floor was littered with plastic muggle crap, most of which broken. Childish crayon scribbles adorned the walls. There was no bed, nor wardrobe.

Severus dropped his backpack to the floor as he studied the room. Muggle toys littered the floor. The walls were covered with football posters and crayon marks. Torn and broken books were scattered about. A television, VCR, and gaming console sat on a low table in the corner.

Harry had yet to close the door, trying to listen in on the conversation downstairs. Snape reached around the boy, and pushed the door shut. Through it, Petunia's raised but muffled voice could be heard.

"Hey!" Harry complained, but Severus ignored him.

Severus went to the window, nearly tripping over random pieces of junk. He could tell that the builders of the house had never intended this to be a bedroom, but a den or office. It was simply too small. He peered out the window for a moment before opening it. It was more difficult than expected to push the window up the sash, as his young body was awkward and weak. He was still learning how to move and his new physical limitations.

The first thing he noted was that there was no second point of egress through the window. The next widow over however, was situated above a garage, meaning it had access to a lowered roofline that led to a fence and tree. "This room is unacceptable. Who occupies that one?"

"Aunt Marge stays there when she visits," Harry said.

"She's not my aunt," he surveyed the neighborhood, calculating the distance to the Figg household, to the nearest floo. "We'll take that room. It's an unoccupied guest room, is it not?"

"Um, that's Aunt Marge's room. We're not allowed in there. Not even Dudley can go in there."

"Get used to it. It's your new bedroom." Severus watched as Albus left the house. He walked down the sidewalk, towards Figg's floo. Halfway down the sidewalk, Albus stopped and looked back at the house. He was too far away for Severus see his expression, but his body language looked tired.

"I don't think Uncle Vernon will let you have it." Harry looked down at the floor and fidgeted with his ridiculously oversized tee shirt. "This is Dudley's second bedroom. I'm not usually allowed in here either. Maybe he'll let you have this room."

"Are you deaf, boy?" Severus picked up his backpack and marched to the room next door down the hall. The knob didn't turn, but the muggle lock was no match for a quick wandless spell. He threw his bag onto the bed. "That room was unacceptable."

"How did you open the lock? And what's wrong with Dudley's play room?"

"It is too small, for one. Two, it lacks a bed, much less two beds. And three, there's no secondary egress."

It was large room, with pink floral wall paper. The bed was queen sized, with a frilly rose colored quilt. There was a dresser, wardrobe, and a TV. A ceramic air 'freshener' pot sat on the dresser, spewing heavy perfumes into the air. There were two large windows, one looking over the front yard, the second directly into the neighbor's yard and upstairs window.

Severus opened a window, pushed out the screen, and threw the pot out the window. It landed on the sidewalk, where it shattered at the feet of a passing neighbor.

Wide eyed, Harry watched from the door. "You shouldn't do that. If Uncle Vernon sees you…."

"He's not my uncle." One by one, Severus inspected the drawers, went through the empty wardrobe, inspected behind the curtains, and looked under the bed. A plug-in air freshener joined the first, out through the window.

"Please. Let's just go." Harry threw a nervous look over his shoulder. His voice dropped to a whisper. "He's coming!"

"Boy!" Vernon huffed with the effort of climbing a flight of stairs, purple faced. "I told you to go to Dudley's second room!"

"I know, but-"

"And instead, I find you two in here, mucking about in my sister's room, making a mess!"

"I didn't—"

Vernon grabbed Harry by the hair and pulled him into the hall. "You're to keep that boy out of our way. I don't want to see or hear him more than I have too. Now go to your cupboard while I deal with your guest."

"My guest?" Why was the strange boy his guest?

"Go!" Reluctantly, the boy left.

Severus watched the scene with narrowed eyes, fingering his new wand. It wasn't registered to him, was untraced, and thus illegal. The blood wards went a long ways in masking magic, but too much magic from an untraced wand held a small risk of drawing unwanted attention, both from the ministry and Deatheaters—who were most certainly watching the area after the recent attack. Wandless magic on the other hand was difficult to track. The only problem was that it required great mental discipline and focus, was weak, and difficult to control. Most people didn't have the strength of mind nor magic to accomplish it.

"Let's talk about the rules, boy." Vernon grabbed Snape's arm and pulled him out of Marge's bedroom, towards the smaller bedroom.

Severus had to fight the urge to pull his wand or to twist out of the fat man's grip. Instead, he sent a wandless stinging hex to the fat man's fingers. The hex wouldn't have hurt, feeling much like a static shock.

Vernon yelped, startled, dropping Snape's arm like a hot potato. He stood back, his beady eyes studying Severus, a bit unnerved. Finally, he dismissed the shock as coincidence.

"Please do not manhandle me," Severus said, quietly. As an afterthought he added, "sir."

Vernon studied Snape for a moment, obviously unnerved by the child in front of him. Severus knew his demeanor was not like that of an average child. During his first childhood, he often made people around him uneasy. He didn't expect this time to be any different.

"You're here due to my wife's generosity. I don't want you here. Therefore, you'll stay out of my way. You'll not bother my wife. You'll stay out of my sister's room. You'll not pester me with questions. You'll stay away from my son. You'll do your chores. And above all, there'll be no freaky hocus pocus."

"Excuse me?" Of all things, he wasn't expecting this. Surely, they understood what raising magical children entailed. Petunia had always been jealous of Lilly's magic, but he didn't expect it to foster irrational hatred though. "Freaky hocus pocus?"

"You heard me! You'll keep your abnormalities to yourself. You'll not expose my family to it. You'll not mention your abnormality to Harry, nor encourage him. Defy me on this, you and Harry will find yourselves at the nearest orphanage."

"Do you not understand the protection those blood wards your nephew's presence allots you? To your whole family?"

"Enough! No funny business!" Vernon's face became purpler, and spittle flew from the corners of his mouth. He loomed over the boy, his face inches away. Severus was not impressed by the fat man's display of bluster. "I've seen the destruction your kind is capable of, your war, the hardship your kind has caused my wife, and I want no part of it in my home!"

"Very well," Snape replied, slipping into Vernon's mind. He encountered a well of fear. Fear of magic, fear of losing his wife and son to deatheaters just as Petunia lost her family to them. There was a fierce desire to blend in to 'normal' society, to avoid drawing the attention of the magical community and their war. There was also a fear of Harry and the attention he drew with his accidental magic. There was no love for the boy. There was some measure of care, but it was buried under layers of irrational fear, and the notion that the boy's 'abnormality' would attract trouble. "Allow us the use of that bedroom and I will do my best to not draw attention to your family. I will also do my best to prevent Harry from doing likewise, to contain his wild magic."

Vernon cringed. "You will not say that word in my house, and I will not be manipulated by some creepy little brat!"

"If I do nothing, Pott…. er, Harry's magic will continue to randomly burst forth during emotional upset. I can help." Severus's patience was nearly gone. He was tempted to curse the man into doing as he asked.

"So will putting you two in an orphanage!"

"Give us the room and I'll teach Harry to manage the outbursts."

"I told you, there'll be no freaky hocus pocus in this house!"

"The older he gets, the stronger his magic will become," Snape argued. "Eventually, it'll draw the attention of the ministry. In fact, it already drew the attention of Headmaster Dumbledore."

"You're just a weird little kid, one of _them_ ," Vernon snorted. "What do you know of the real world? About that old crackpot fool and his school?"

"I know that I want to avoid his scrutiny. I want to avoid attention from the magical-" Vernon cringed at the word, "—community. There's safety in anonymity. Our goals coincide."

Vernon stared at Snape, silently debating the situation in his mind, unsure. Practicality and logic was clashing with his bullish and blustery nature.

Severus had another card to play in his arsenal of manipulation. "Harry wants a family. I will keep his focus away from yours and on me."

"Very well. I've decided to put you in this room." Vernon drew himself to his full height and bulk, not realizing he had been legilimenised and then verbally manipulated. The man believed it was his own idea. "You'll obey my rules, do as you're told. Stay out of my way. Keep your unnaturalness from my son. You'll not upset my wife."

"Harry will change his room to this one as well," Severus continued, relieved that he wouldn't need to use magic to manipulate the muggle. He was prepared to do it, but would rather not, keeping it an option of last resort. "I assume he currently rooms with his cousin?"

"Dudley's none of your business!" Vernon snapped. He pointed down the hall towards the stairs. "Go help your brother move his things out of the cupboard."

Snape fought back a cringe at the word 'brother.' He would never get used to it. "Cupboard?"

"You heard me, you creepy little brat!"

"Where?"

"Under the stairs. Move! When you're done with that, I've a car that needs washing."

* * *

Harry sat on his cot, his excitement barely contained. He always wanted a brother! He always dreamed that a long-lost relative would come and take him home with them. Or that his parent's deaths were a misunderstanding because they had amnesia, or were shipwrecked on an island. Maybe they were spies, and their deaths had to be faked, and someday they'd come get him when it was safe. In his childish excitement, he ignored the fact that the boy really wasn't related. He simply didn't care.

His cupboard door opened and his 'brother' glared inside. He was about to say something, but his words froze on his tongue as he scrutinized Harry sitting on an old camping cot, hugging his knees, in a dark cupboard under the stairs.

"Hi."

"You live in the cupboard," the other boy reached up on his tiptoes and pulled the chain to the lightbulb overhead. It was burned out.

"It's my room," Harry said a little defensively, mistaking the boy's bewilderment as mockery. "Are you staying in here too?"

"Don't be absurd," the boy snapped, irritated at Harry's lack of critical thinking skills. "There's no room for us both. Gather your things."

"I don't understand."

"I'm not surprised," he snapped. "Move your possessions out of this cupboard and into our new bedroom."

"We get to have Dudley's second room?"

"Have you always been this slow witted?" the other boy grabbed Harry's pillow off the cot. It turned out to be a pillowcase stuffed with old socks, underpants, and pit stained tee-shirts. "Where's your clothes?"

Harry pointed to a cardboard box Severus had assumed was filled with cleaning rags. "Take it. Where's the rest of your things?"

Harry picked up a tattered old book bag with a few beat-up activity books, a shoebox filled with junk, and some broken toy soldiers. There were a few drawings tacked to the wall. The entirety of the boy's possessions could fit in a cardboard box.

"Come."

"Are you sure it's okay?" Harry hesitated.

The other boy bit back a sarcastic reply. "Yes. Hurry, before your uncle changes his mind."

"'kay." The prospect of losing his new bedroom kicked the boy into action. He gathered his things, and scrambled up the stairs, to the smallest room.

"No. This is your room."

"You got Uncle Vernon to give us Aunt Marge's room?" Harry whispered in awe. "It's bigger than Dudley's first bedroom! Do we get to keep the bed too? And you're staying with me too?"

"Yes. Put your things away." Severus picked a shirt out of the box and held it up. It was several sizes too big for Harry, obviously not his. He threw it to the floor and fished out another. This one was just as big, but had a hole in the armpit. He threw it to the floor and picked out a pair of khaki trousers. They'd never fit the boy's small frame. He then looked at the ratty clothes the boy was wearing. "Do you not have anything decent? I have no desire to be seen with a ragamuffin masquerading as a vagrant."

"No one's forcing you to hang out with me," Harry said, a little hurt and a feeling bit rejected. The kids at school made fun of his clothes too. Dudley always said he was embarrassed to be seen with him.

"Little do you know," he grumbled under his breath.

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

"We need to blend in. A part of this is dressing neatly." The other boy ignored the question. "I'll see to obtaining decent things for you to wear. Until then you can borrow something of mine."

Harry forgot his hurt in light of confusion. Blending in? Did the other boy not realize how odd he acted? Or talked? Or looked? His black trousers and pressed black dress shirt were hardly what the other kids were wearing to school. He'd never blend in with the kids at school.

His new brother opened his backpack, and reached in, and kept reaching impossibly, until his whole arm disappeared. Harry thought he heard the clang of metal pots and the sound of glass clinking. After a few moments of rummaging he pulled out a pair of black trousers and a dark green polo. "Here. They'll be a bit long. You may need a belt."

"Um, thanks." Harry thought he'd blend in better with Dudley's castoffs. They might be baggy and worn, but the style was closer to what the other kids were wearing. In fact, baggy was 'in' right now. But still, Harry wasn't about to turn down the offer of nice clothes, no matter how nerdy they looked. "I still have chores to do. I'll try them on latter."

"Very well."

Harry eyed the blue backpack. It was zipped up, and looked like any normal bag. "How—"

"Who the hell are you? When dad comes home from work and finds out you're in Aunt Marge's room you'll be in trouble."

"His name is Stephen, and lives here now." Harry looked up to see Dudley in the doorway. He wore wet swim trunks and a damp tee. His pudgy belly poked out from underneath. His blond hair was wet, and he smelled of chlorine. He'd been swimming with Piers again at the public pool. "This is our room now."

"Liar."

Harry saw the other boy sneer at Dudley, but he said nothing.

"Ask him. He came home from work early today to sign Stephen's custody papers. He's in the back yard." Uncle Vernon spent hours in the back yard, practicing his golf swing, or drinking on the patio next to the grill, or napping in hammock.

"Dad!" Dudley shouted as he bounded off. Harry listened as he thundered down the stairs, glad he didn't have to listen to that from the cupboard. "There's a dork with the freak in Aunt Marge's room!"

"Charming, when is lunch?"

"Let's find out."

* * *

"Why does he get the bigger room?" Dudley whined around a mouthful of sandwich. "He's got the bigger bed now!"

"Now sweetums—"

"No, I want that bedroom! The big bed too!"

Severus watched the scene unfold, disgusted. He ate his single peanut butter sandwich on stale bread without complaint. Harry had the same. Dudley and Vernon had two grilled cheeses and ham, fresh fruit, and tomato soup. Petunia had a bowl of cut fruit, probably being on a diet. As a teenager, she was always on a diet.

"Now Dudders, you don't want that room," Vernon said with a full mouth of ham and cheese. "It's too girly for you. That wallpaper—"

"I want that room, and I want the walls painted blue!"

"It'll be a lot of hard work to move your things," Petunia countered.

"I don't care. Make Harry and the new weirdo do it."

Harry watched, wide eyed. A tantrum was eminent. He knew his new room was too good to be true and couldn't last.

"Can't they take my second room, mummy? Then I can have both rooms.

"Well, I suppose—"

"No." All eyes turned towards Severus, gob smacked. "The room is ours."

"Are you going to let the creepy weirdo say that?"

Petunia studied Snape closely, suspicion in her eyes and her lips pressed to a thin line. Severus could feel her searching her memory, trying to figure out why he seemed familiar to her. She was a muggle and would never figure out who he was.

"You two go to your room and stay there," Vernon said to Harry and Snape. His face was purple again.

"But I want that room!" Dudley whined.

"Excuse us," Severus politely said as he stood from the table. The boy continued to sit there, wanting to watch. "Harry, come."

The boy sat there dumbly for a moment, before standing. "Um, sure."

"Why do you want this room so much?" Harry asked. "Do you like the wallpaper or something?"

"The appearance of the room is immaterial," Snape snorted. He picked up the backpack and unzipped the small compartment. "I selected this room for its location. It has two points of egress."

"Hunh?" Harry watched has he pulled a ginormous and somewhat dusty book out of the small pouch. He only understood half of what the other boy said. "How—"

"It means I don't care what it looks like, and if you had to, you could escape out the window." Severus tossed the backpack to the floor, next to the bed. Kicking off his shoes, he sat on the bed, resting against the headboard. Harry picked up the backpack. It looked and felt empty. He unzipped the pouch, finding nothing inside. The rest of the bag appeared likewise empty. "Stay out of there. There's things in there you have no business playing with."

"Like what? Air? It's empty."

"Nothing is ever empty," Snape murmured as he opened the book. "What you see with your eyes isn't always so. Never trust what you see."

Confused, Harry didn't know how to reply to that. "Whacha reading?"

"I'm researching familial rituals and potions."

"Oh. How old are you? I just turned ten."

"Physically, ten as well. Roughly six months older than you."

A loud crash sounded from downstairs. Dudley's whiny voice could be heard. Harry paid it no mind, so Severus decided to ignore it.

"You act and talk like you're thirty."

At that Severus looked up and scrutinized Harry with sharp eyes. "Don't you have anything to do?"

"No. We were supposed to wash Uncle Vernon's car. But I recon we're not doing that today. We're told to stay up here."

"Here, amuse yourself," Severus tossed the TV clicker to Harry. "Keep the volume down."

The sound of Dudley stomping up the stairs seeped through the shut door. As the boy stomped by, he kicked the door. "I hate you! You're dead! You and the creep!"

Severus wrapped his fingers around his hidden wand, but didn't draw it. He didn't think the young muggle was much of a threat, but the boy could cause strife between them and Harry's relatives, obviously holding a favored status in the family. That was the real threat. He'd have to keep an eye on the situation until he could find a way to neutralize it.

A door down the hall slammed. More screaming punctuated by crashing could be heard, not quite drowned out by the telly.

"Ignore him," Harry said as he flipped through the channels, sitting close to the television so he could see it properly. "He'll stop in a bit. His friends will probably be over in a while and he stop before they see him."

"Shush! Let me read. Don't sit so close to that thing." He needed to study his books. He only had several months to devise a way to temporarily mask his magical signature and fool basic familial wards.

Claiming to be Harry's estranged godbrother seemed to be the easiest route, but the plan was flawed and didn't sit well with him.

When he de-aged himself, the name 'Stephen Prince' appeared on Hogwarts's roll books, as all British magical children did. Next summer when he bought a wand from Olivander's, 'Stephen Prince' would officially appear in the ministry records.

Despite this, his new identity would crumble under a basic lineage spell. Stephen Prince simply didn't have a unique magical signature, and the Potter familial wards and holdings would never accept him as an 'adopted' potter. Old acquaintances would recognize his magic, not to mention the goblins at the bank and the house elves at Hogwarts. He needed a way to alter his signature, and in order for his old identity not to disappear, it had to be reversible.

Like a true Slytherin, Severus planned to take full advantage of his situation. Years from now when he rid himself of the boy, he wanted the option of resuming his life where it left off. However unappealing the prospect of resuming the stigma of his past mistakes were, it was his life and he wanted it back.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Harry flipped through channel after channel. How many channels were there? The black and white telly his father had while growing up had ten channels, maybe eleven if the antenna was held just so.

He read a page or two, and then glanced up again. Harry settled on a BBC documentary about astronomy and something called a 'Hubble'. Despite himself, he watched, fascinated as clear and detailed pictures of the colorful nebula and galaxies he learned about as a child flickered across the screen. They certainly looked different from the fuzzy white patches of light he saw through his secondhand brass telescope in astronomy class.

What had made the muggles think of putting a telescope attached to a camera into space?

Idly, he recalled that Lilly claimed the American muggles went to the moon in the 1960's, but hadn't believed her at the time. He also didn't realize how much muggle technology, and various other muggle nonsense, had progressed in the years since he was a child.

Apparently bored, Harry changed the channel.

"No, turn it back." For a while, Severus forgot to be miserable about his lot in life as he watched.

"You're worse than uncle Vernon and his World War Two documentaries."

"Shush."

* * *

Severus's body now tired easily. His knowledge, skill, strength of magic, and memories were intact, but he still had the body of a boy. His mind was harder to control, his emotions more difficult to reign in, and his attention span shorter. His occlumency was a lot more difficult to maintain. More than once, he discovered to his dismay that the shields were completely down when he became distracted or by the end of the day. It left him exhausted, both physically and mentally.

At nine o'clock, the instant his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep. Or at least, he tried to.

"I like my new bed," Harry sad next to him.

"Hmm."

"It's a lot nicer than my old cot," Harry rambled on. He snuggled closer to Snape. "It softer, and warmer. Bouncy too."

"Stay on your own side of the bed. Quit bouncing."

"'kay." Harry scooted back. "The blankets are thick, and soft."

Severus ignored that.

"I like my pillow too."

"It's hard to beat a pillowcase stuffed with socks and underpants." Personally, Snape didn't like the bed. It was too soft and stank of muggle perfume-y detergent and fabric softener. The pillow had no support, his head sinking through it.

"Stevie?"

"Hmm?" Severus ignored the butchering of his assumed name. What did he care? It wasn't his real name.

"Thank you."

"N'kay."

"No, really. Thanks for coming here."

"Save your thanks. I'm not what I seem."

"You're not really my godbrother, are you?"

"What make you say that?" How in the hell had the dumb brat figure that out?

"It's just a feeling. You're not like most kids, either."

"Trust your intuition, but don't tell the others your suspicions."

"I won't. I don't care if we're not really godbrothers. I want you to be my brother anyways." Harry seemed to think about that for a moment. "Stevie Prince isn't your real name, isn't it?"

"No." Severus wasn't sure how much to tell the boy. He had no intention of hiding the truth, but the boy was young. "For all intents and purposes my name is Stephen now, as far as the muggle world is concerned we're godbrothers."

"You mean like adoption?"

"In a way." Hopefully the idiot child would quiet soon, and allow him some sleep.

"Thanks for coming here and being my big brother," Harry paused. "I don't think you want to be here. And I don't think you like me very much. So thanks for coming here, and for getting me a new bed, and a bedroom."

At the child's words, old feelings began to creep into his mind, chiefly resentment and anger. Severus reinforced his occlumency shields and emptied his mind. The hate and resentment melted away, leaving a comforting numbness.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, Harry was kicking at the bedsheets. He made whimpering noises, caught in the throes of a nightmare.

"NO!" the boy sat up, sweaty and shaking.

"Problem?"

"I had a nightmare."

"Obviously."

"I heard a voice laughing, but it wasn't a nice laugh." Severus decided Harry must have mistaken the sarcasm for interest, or care, as he prattled on about it. "Someone screamed, then I saw green."

"Green? Green what?"

"A green light."

"A green light," he repeated.

"Un huh," Harry said, "It's green and it hurts."

Severus regarded the boy in the dim light for a long moment. "Clear your mind. It will help with the dreams."

"How?"

"I can't tell you that. Everybody clears their mind in a different way."

"Do I think of nothing?"

"If that's what works for you, but typically no."

"How do you do it?"

He thought of jinxes he knew. He recited potion recipes. Sometimes he worked through arithamancy formulas. Of course Harry wouldn't understand any of that. "I think of one thing. I focus on it, picturing it, letting it consume me. I think of it, and only it. I keep my mind from drifting to other things."

"That sounds hard."

"That's why you practice."

"If I practice, will the bad dreams stop? How will that stop a dream?"

"It will help, eventually."

"Will it stop the good dreams too?"

"I don't know."

"But—"

"We'll talk about it later," Severus grumbled, not liking the direction the conversation was going and wanting to go back to sleep. "Practice."

"'Kay."


	3. Harry's New Brother

**Chapter Two**

Harry's New Brother

* * *

"Up!" Petunia shrieked as she banged on the door. The knob rattled as she tried to open the door, but the lock held. "Get up. Now!"

Severus rolled over. His young body demanded more sleep, and more sleep he was determined to get.

"We gotta get up!"

Severus ignored Harry, already half asleep again.

"Stevie." Harry crawled under the bed, fishing out ratty shoe, already dressed in his new clothing. "It's time to make breakfast."

There was no response.

"Aunt Petunia will yell at you, then Uncle Vernon will get mad."

"Leave me be."

"Kay. I'll try to sneak you something to eat. Do you want some bacon?"

Harry waited for a response, but left when none was forthcoming.

Severus stretched under the covers, determined to go back to sleep. But it was all for vain. Even though exhausted, he couldn't fall back to sleep. The smell of bacon and coffee finally drew him out of bed and downstairs.

Three sets of eyes turned to Snape as he stumbled into the kitchen and helped himself to a cup of coffee.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?"

"What does it look like?" he helped himself to some cream and one of the Dursley's doughnuts sitting on the counter.

"Stevie, no!" Harry whispered from the stove. Bacon fried in front of him. Eggs were on the other burner.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll put that back," Petunia warned. "And the coffee isn't for you!"

Severus took a bite, and then washed it down with coffee.

"That's it! I've had enough of that boy!" Petunia screeched at her husband. "That old man dragged him into our home and turned it upside-down! And he's a bad influence on the boy!"

Ignoring the hubbub, Severus sat down in Harry's usual spot. He took another sip of the coffee.

"Now Pet—"

Severus grabbed the paper from Vernon's side of the table.

"Now you see here!" Vernon shouted at the loss of his paper, suddenly developing an opinion.

Severus pulled out the sports and comic section and tossed it to the man, placating him.

"Hemph!"

"Don't you burn that bacon, boy!" Petunia shifted her ire from her husband to the boy. "And don't forget to make a plate for Dudders. As for you, I have a list of chores for you! Harry, you're to keep that boy out of my way today."

"Yes Aunt Petunia." Harry set a plate of bacon on the table.

"Keep him from Dudders, too."

"Yes uncle Vernon." A big bowl of scrambled eggs followed.

"After you clean the kitchen, I want you to start with the laundry."

Unobtrusively, Severus watched from behind the paper as the Dursleys ate while Harry loaded what he assumed was the 'dishwasher'. For the first time, he noticed that there were only two plates at the table. He then recalled Harry's words: "I'll sneak you something to eat."

"My car still needs to be washed."

"Yes Uncle Vernon."

Severus folded the paper, stood, and walked to the cupboard. He pulled out two plates. There wasn't much left, but he piled what remained on them. It'd have to do for now. He sat back down at the table.

"Harry, eat," Severus said as he ate his own eggs.

"You already had a doughnut!" Petunia hissed.

"Thank you for reminding me," Severus said as he grabbed a pastry and dropped it onto Harry's plate. He filled both of their glasses with milk.

Harry stood at the sink, torn. He wanted the food, but didn't want to get into trouble.

"Vernon, do something about him!"

The fat man looked at his wife, then at the hungry boys, then back to his wife. Quickly, he downed his coffee and got up. "I'm late for work."

"Vernon!" Petunia hissed, and gave the boys one last glare before following Vernon to the Door. Angry whispers traveled down the hall, towards the front door.

"Harry, sit."

Warily, Harry sat and began shoving eggs into his mouth, trying to finish before his aunt came back, afraid she'd take it away.

Petunia stood at the door, and glared at Harry. Severus took the opportunity to slip into her mind. Like Vernon, she didn't love Harry, but she did care for his welfare. And also like Vernon, she feared Harry's magic. She believed that she was training a dangerous child, and if she didn't, Harry's magic would bring disaster. In her twisted logic, she believed she was helping Harry by showing him his place. And truth be told, she wasn't too far off. Harry was a danger and Petunia had no defense. A burst of wild magic from a tantrum, an attack by vengeful deatheaters, or unwanted attention from the ministry were all real possibilities.

Petunia's regard shifted to Severus, her glare filled with suspicion. She suspected Snape wasn't what he seemed, and that she knew him from somewhere. She wouldn't be as easy to manipulate as her husband, able to scheme and manipulate like a Slytherin, though with less tact. Petunia was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. He'd have to watch her carefully, or she'd threaten his plans.

"Stay away from my son." She grabbed Dudley's plate of breakfast from the counter and a glass of milk.

"I assure you madam, I have no desire to interact with your bulbous offspring."

Her eyes narrowed even more. Severus's could see her trying to piece together why the he seemed familiar to her. "Have Harry show you the chores. I expect them done before lunch."

"We get lunch too?"

From the table, Harry watched warily as Petunia turned to deliver her son's breakfast. Intuitively, he knew something more was up than just breakfast and chores.

* * *

"You shouldn't make Aunt Petunia mad. She can get mean."

"A bored muggle housewife poses no threat to me," Severus grimaced at Dudley's large y-fronts. Another pile of laundry was waiting to be folded after this one. "Let me worry about her."

"She didn't like Mrs. Anderson next door, so she called the city and told them about their new deck. They didn't have the right paperwork from the city to build it, so they got a fine and had to tear it down. Then she called the police 'cause their garbage can stayed at the curb too long. She also spreads nasty rumors that aren't true."

Severus rolled his eyes at the petty neighborhood intrigue, not impressed.

"She might not let us eat, and we'll have to stay in our room all day," Harry pressed as he balled up a pair of Vernon's socks.

He eyed the boy's form. He wasn't emaciated, but was thinner than he should be. "I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen."

Severus saw hope in his eyes, but could tell Harry wasn't quite convinced. "Once she made me stay in my cupboard all weekend. Uncle Vernon let me out to cut the grass and to go potty. I had to sneak out to raid the fridge at night."

"As tempting as it is to stuff you into a closet, that will not happen anymore." It would make his job easier if he could stuff the child into a closet. He'd be rid of the brat and could go home.

Harry giggled, not hearing the sarcasm. "Uncle Vernon always says he might send us to an orphanage."

"Doubtful. His threats are empty."

"I don't wanna!" Dudley's loud, petulant voice interrupted.

"But Dudders, school starts next week," Petunia pleaded as she approached the hall laundry closet, a stack of clothing in her arms. "You need new trousers and socks."

"I hate shopping for clothes!"

"Here," Petunia shoved the stack at the boys. "You two will have to share."

Severus fished a pair of hand-me-down blue jeans out of the pile. The waistband button was about to fall off and the seams in the seat were stretched. They might work lengthwise, but the 'husky' size would never fit his slim build. Harry was smaller yet, and would swim in them.

"These garments are unacceptable." He spent his first childhood in ill-fitting and worn clothing. He wasn't a vain person, but he always made sure his clothing was neat, in good repair, and properly fitting. Ill-fitting or ratty clothing could hamper him and the boy in an emergency. "You'll supply Harry with suitable clothing."

"How dare you! Those are designer trousers you're thumbing your nose at! You'll be grateful for what I give you!"

"My mistake," came the sarcastic reply. He dropped the jeans to a pile on the floor and turned back to the laundry, dismissively.

"Will the freak and creep have to go too?"

"Now Dudders, you know we can't leave them here by themselves."

"Send him to Mrs. Figgs!"

"Now Dudley, you know we can't—"

"No!" He stomped a pudgy foot.

"Perhaps you could bargain with your mother," Snape smoothly interrupted the tantrum. "A treat for your cooperation perhaps?"

Dudley scrunched his face, caught between wanting to take the good advice and telling the interloper to shut up. He chose the best of both worlds. "Shut it, creep. Mummy, I want to stop for ice-cream if those two have to come. And I want those Nikes I showed you in the ad."

Petunia glared at Severus. "Fine sweetums."

"She gave in too easily. Next time ask for more," Snape advised, making no effort to hide his smirk.

* * *

Marks & Spencer hadn't changed much since he'd last been in one some fifteen years ago. Plastic mannequins displayed cheap, mass produced muggle fashions. Unsupervised children ran wild, crawling through the racks of clothing making a mess. Clerks milled about, cleaning up after them.

Reflexively, he reinforced his occlumency shields, finding them already up. He hated crowds, and the shields only helped a little. Lilly had called it social anxiety. Whatever it was, he felt his already short temper fraying.

"Sit." Petunia pointed to a bench. "If I can't find you when we're done, you're walking home." Without waiting to see if the two boys complied, she herded Dudley off towards the shoe department.

"What size are you?"

"Hunh?"

"What size are you? Are you deaf?"

"I dunno," Harry replied. "Why?"

"I told you. I have no desire to be seen with a ragamuffin." Severus pulled Harry to a rack of modestly priced store brand trousers on sale. "Pick several, dark colors. Select a size that leaves a bit of room to grow, but isn't baggy. Do you have a jacket?"

"Yeah, Dudley's old one."

"You'll need a new one then, one that fits."

"But Aunt Petunia won't pay for one." Harry squinted at a price tag, holing it close to his face to read. "I don't have any money."

"Do you not earn a stipend from your chores?"

"A what?"

"Money. An allowance."

"No. Dudley gets one though."

Severus sighed. "Let me worry about it."

"But—"

"Don't argue," Severus snapped as he turned towards a display of clearance jumpers and tees. He selected several of each, in various shades of green. "Go try these on."

When finished, Harry had a modest pile of clothing. It wasn't much, several pairs of trousers, several tee shirts, a jumper, and a jacket. Socks and underpants rounded out the pile. In total, it would probably cost less than Dudley's brand name shoes. Speaking of which, the boy needed shoes….

"What do you think you're doing?" Petunia hissed, noticing the pile of clothing Harry clutched hopefully in his arms.

"Harry needs new clothing for school. As his guardian, you're going to supply it for him."

"Now listen up you little toe rag, I'm not buying you a new wardrobe."

"I'm not asking you to. I have clothing. It's Harry who needs clothing."

Nearby, a clerk pretended not to listen in on the family drama. Several shoppers were less discrete.

"It's okay Stevie. I don't need—"

"No," he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Your cousin's hand-me-downs do not fit and I cannot keep loaning you my clothing. Winter is coming and you'll need a coat."

"Fine!" Petunia blushed, noticing the stares from the other shoppers.

"He needs a pair of shoes as well."

Petunia pressed her lips into a thin bloodless line. "Very well."

Dudley, oblivious to his mother's ire, whined, "when are we gonna get some ice-cream?"

* * *

Today and yesterday were the best two days of his life, Harry decided. A big 'brother' who looked after him, a bedroom with a real bed, and now new clothes!

"I thought Aunt Petunia was going to yell at you in the store," he said in awe. He opened up the wardrobe and began hanging his new clothes. "How did you do it?"

"It wasn't difficult. I used Slytherin cunning."

"What's that?"

"Never mind." Even with his and Harry's things put away, the wardrobe still looked pathetically empty. He pulled a long stick out of a pocket in his sleeve and tapped his backpack. He then put the stick back, but impossibly his sleeve wasn't stiff or lumpy. He then reached into the bag, his arm disappearing into impossible depths.

"How'd you do that?"

"Pocket spell. Light-weight spell. Camouflage spell. A compartment expansion spell. Multiple wards to keep you and your lovely relatives out." Apparently finding what he was looking for, he pulled out a small pewter caldron. "Bring me a glass of water."

Strange things seemed to follow Harry where ever he went, so he didn't push the question. He was used to it.

When Harry retuned he had a gas burner and various glass jars sitting on the desk. The older boy took the glass of water and poured it into the cauldron. He placed it over the flame and the water immediately began to boil.

"How'd it boil so fast?"

"Magic."

"No, seriously?"

"Seriously," Severus boy rolled his eyes. He put some green things with some brown slimy things into a mortar and ground it into a sloppy paste with a pestle. He dumped it into the caldron, which hissed, then the liquid inside turned bright blue.

His new brother measured several things from the jars and added to the pot. Harry glanced at the door. "If Aunt Petunia sees this, she won't be happy."

"We wouldn't want that, would we?" the other boy smirked meanly. To Harry, it sounded like he wanted her to walk in so he could argue with her.

"Whacha making?" Humoring his brother, Harry let it drop.

"Provided the chlorine in the water doesn't interfere with the billywig wings, I'm making a simple nutrient enhancer potion," he said absently as he added a pinch of something from a jar. He slipped in to lecture mode without realizing it. "First you boil the water. Then you add the dehydrated newt eyes. Grind a sprig of mint with a pinch of beetle eyes and toad livers. Let it seep for an hour, stirring widdershins five times every fifteen minutes."

Harry understood only a third of that. "So you're making a fancy tea?"

"No, as I stated previously, I'm making us a nutrient enhancer potion." The older boy muttered something. Harry thought he caught the words 'like your father' and 'dunderhead.'

Confused, Harry ignored the insults. Most of the jars looked like they held herbs, but some of them looked like they held slimy animal parts. He could have sworn that he saw some of the little bug eyeballs blink at him. If Aunt Petunia saw this, she'd be cross. She didn't like bugs in her house—in jars or otherwise.

"It looks gross."

"Before our evening meal, we will take a sip."

"Um," Harry didn't know what 'billywig wings' were, but he knew he didn't want it in his tea—or soup-or whatever it was. He scratched his head. "Err, why do you want me to drink your tea?"

"Were you not listing?" the older boy said, clearly insulted. "I do not brew 'teas'. It's a potion, not tea. You will take a sip every evening. Or do you wish your growth to be stunted? I myself, refuse to trust my nutritional fate to the generosity of Petunia Evans."

"Is that my mom's maiden name?" Harry hazard a guess, never hearing the name before.

The older boy glared at Harry. "You didn't know?"

"No," Harry answered. "Every time I ask she says not to ask questions."

"Lilly Evans, was your mother's name."

"Lilly?"

"Lillian actually."

"Was she a drunkard?"

"What?" Of all of the questions he prepared himself for, that wasn't it. "Drunk?"

"Aunt Petunia says she died 'cause My dad was drunk, and driving too fast. She too."

"Your aunt lied to you."

Harry could feel tears welling in his eyes. He knew not to trust his aunt to be truthful, but it still hurt. rry chose his brotheH

It took several moments for Severus to continue, but finally, he did. "James Potter probably didn't get along with your aunt. I don't know much about their interactions, but I do know he wasn't a drunkard."

"Oh." Somehow, that wasn't very comforting.

"He was a bully at school, though. I don't think that can blame that on alcohol."

"Um, okay." His dad couldn't have been that bad. How could this strange kid know anyway? He was only a six months older than him. But when given the choice between believing the boy who gave him his own bedroom and his aunt, Harry chose the new boy. He didn't know why, but felt that he could trust him more than his relatives.

"That watch you're wearing, does it have a timer?" the older boy asked. Harry had the impression he was trying to change the subject. He didn't know how he knew, but knew the older boy didn't want to talk about his father.

"Sortta."

"Sortta?" he mocked. "What does that mean?"

"It's Dudley's old watch. He broke it and threw it away. I fixed it, but none of the buttons work anymore. I can't set the time, so it's an hour and five minutes off."

"Give it here," he sighed as he studied the watch. "It has magical residue. How did you fix it?"

Harry scratched the back of his neck. He didn't want to talk about his freakiness any more than the other boy wanted to talk about James Potter. He shrugged, embarrassed, and a little scared of making the other boy not like him. "I wished for it."

The words sounded silly, even to Harry's ears. He expected the older boy to laugh. Or worse, he expected him to act like his family, and hate him for the freakiness.

"You did a good job," He sounded impressed as he scrutinized the time. "Muggle electronics usually don't take to magic, much less wish magic. Keep practicing. Try to fix the buttons."

"Magic is real?"

"What did you think the strange phenomenon surrounding your actions were?" the older boy looked at him like he was an interesting bug—a very stupid bug at that. "Did you think it was normal to wish for a watch to fix itself?"

"Um, no."

"Magic is real."

"But Aunt Petunia says there's no such thing."

"We've already established that your aunt is a liar. Use your brain, boy."

"Why would they lie to me about magic?" Harry was torn between believing what he knew about reality and what the strange boy said.

"Your aunt and uncle know about your magic and fear you for it."

"Am I bad because of magic?"

Severus snorted. "I'm sure you can accomplish mischief without the aid of magic."

Harry had to smile at that.

The older boy handed Harry a glass stirring rod. "It's been fifteen minutes. Stir the potion widdershins five times."

"Widder-what?"

"Widdershins, a direction contrary to the sun's course." Stephan began cleaning up, tightening lids back on jars and putting them into his backpack. "Counter clockwise."

"Oh." Harry carefully stirred five times. "Is the tea-"

Stephan glared.

"—I mean 'potion,' magical too?"

"Yes, a nutrient enhancer."

"Will it taste icky?"

"Yes."

"Can't I just take a multivitamin instead?" Harry asked. "Dudley has loads of chewables he won't take. Aunt Petunia used to hide 'em in his ice-cream, but he just spits 'em out."

"Your cousin doesn't lack for nutrition."

"He won't eat vegetables or fruit, so the doctor gave Aunt Petunia vitamins for him. But he won't take them either."

"The potion isn't a vitamin. It helps reverse past effects of minor vitamin deficiency, and to prevent it in the future by enhancing the effects of the nutrients in your food." The boy thought for a moment. "The addition of muggle vitamins may have some merit. We'll take both."

Harry wrinkled his nose. His new brother was bossy.

* * *

Severus bottled the potion. His mother had taught it to him some years ago, after the mill closed and with it the neighborhood grocery store. He further modified the potion when he noticed one of his impoverished students had minor vitamin decencies. The child's father was a deatheater and imprisoned, the family's wealth confiscated, and his mother less than sane upon her release from Azkaban. At each meal he had the elves slip it into the boy's food.

His own childhood was less than stellar, but unlike Harry, he never went hungry. The processed muggle food he grew up on was anything but nutritious, though. His father didn't drive, and his mother didn't have the magical strength to apparate, so groceries were limited to the small corner market. Until Hogwarts, he rarely had the luxury of fresh fruit, meat, or a salad. To combat this, his mother gave him the potion every evening before dinner.

He'd just finished cleaning up when the bedroom door banged and the doorknob juggled. "Boys! Unlock this damn door! Now!"

He glanced over at Harry as he unlocked the door. His eyes were as wide as saucers. "I think we're in trouble for my clothes."

"What kind of crap were you two trying to pull, making a scene in the store this afternoon?" Vernon's voice was purple. Each word was punctuated by a fat finger in Severus's face. "I told you, not to upset my wife!"

"Harry needed clothing," he stated, not impressed by Vernon's bluster. "The hand-me-downs Petunia supplied were insufficient."

"Those 'insufficient' clothes you turned your nose up at are expensive brand name designers."

"They didn't fit him."

"I'm not paying for two sets of clothing!" Vernon shouted spittle flying from his mouth. From down the hall, Dudley watched, smirking. "They're going back to the store!"

"Harry's ratty clothing will attract unwanted attention." Severus switched tactics, playing on the man's fears. "For the price of one pair of your son's brand name trainers, this set of clothing will make your nephew look neat and respectable for the school year. I'd say that's a bargain."

Vernon's left eye twitched.

"He'll bend in with the other children. He'll look normal, respectable."

"Now see here you ungrateful little brat, I work hard for the money to put a roof over your head and food on the table." This time Vernon suspected he was being manipulated, and he didn't like it. He wanted to get the last word in. "I won't be pushed into wasting money on you!"

"Thank you for the clothes, Uncle Vernon," Harry humbly said. "I really like them, and I'll work off the money with chores."

"Err, well, you're welcome, boy." Vernon's anger seemed to deflate in on itself, and he turned to leave. "And you can start by washing that car like I told you to do this morning. Petunia's car too. Don't forget to vacuum the crumbs out of the back seats."

Severus's estimation of Harry raised a notch. With a simple 'thank you' the boy diffused the situation and reminded the man of the chores the boy did. From what he could tell, the boy's mind wasn't analytical or calculating like his. Harry, like his mother before him, possessed an innate intuition he envied. Severus relied on Legilimency to read and understand people, but Harry did it effortlessly.

Seeing other people easily do what he struggled to do irritated him. "Good job."

"He just wanted to feel appreciated. I don't think Dudley ever says thanks." Harry shrugged. "We better hurry and wash the cars, before Aunt Petunia makes him change his mind."

* * *

Severus has never been to a muggle school. He'd been home schooled by his mother, and then later was self-motivated to learn through his mother's old schoolbooks, before Hogwarts. So he wasn't sure what to expect.

The muggle linoleum floors, chalkboard and cork covered walls, and plastic-covered desks met his imagination. What he wasn't sure about was the level of knowledge he needed to display in order to blend in.

"I don't know," Petunia tersely said to the lady behind the counter. "Apparently he was home schooled. He's the same age as Harry and Dudley. I imagine he belongs in that year."

"I don't have an immunization record for a Stephen Prince. Otherwise, the paperwork seems to be in order, but it's odd that he's not in the database," the woman looked at something on a computer screen, a box not too dissimilar to the one Dudley played games on. "I also see that the school nurse referred Harry to an optometrist. This will need to be taken care of before the first day. Both boys will need their medical files updated before then."

"That's not necessary, is it? Who gets polio or the measles in this day and age?"

Severus's head snapped up. "I want the inoculations. All of them. I want to make sure Harry has had them too."

His mother almost died during a measles outbreak before he was born. It had damaged her magical core, rendering her to almost a squib, leaving her unable to function in both the muggle and magical worlds. If caught early, muggle illness posed no threat. But every once in a while, a muggle born would spark an outbreak of something and the magical community would have no immunity. There was always be casualties before Saint Mungos figured out the right potions.

Petunia glared at the boy. "I'll make the appointments for next week."

"You're a smart young man," the secretary commented. "I wished more people took the inoculations more seriously."

Petunia's glare deepened.

"There'll be no placement exams, as all students will also sit a pilot version of a Cognitive Abilities Test in several weeks. He'll also sit the SATs at the end of the year. For now Stephen will be placed in Harry's class. Dudley will be moved to Mrs. Clark's class."

"No! I don't want to go to Mrs. Clark's class! Send them to her class!"

The woman sighed. "We feel that both Harry and Dudley would benefit from some separation."

"Have you been causing problems, again?" Petunia hissed at Harry.

Harry's eyes widened, as he shook his head, afraid he was in trouble again. "No."

"I'm not sure how or why Harry climbed to the top of the school last May, but separating the two boys will surely be beneficial. It seems that Harry's misbehavior is precipitated by interactions with his cousin."

"So send those two! I don't want to leave my friends. They don't have any friends anyway."

"Mrs. Clarks classroom is a little bit more advanced than Mrs. Smyth's. Of the two, Dudley's scores are consistently higher. And for Stephen, as he hasn't taken the aptitude tests, we're forced to place him in Mrs. Smyth's class."

Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry. There was no way in hell Harry was dumber than that lumbering oaf. Either Dudley cheated, or more likely, Harry didn't perform to his fullest potential. Academic dishonesty nearly topped the list of things that irked him. He'd have to break Harry of the habit.

"Did you hear that sweetie?" Petunia gushed with pride. "Why wasn't Dudley put there in the first place?"

"Stephen's enrolment caused the class to have too many students, while Mrs. Clark's class had a few openings."

It didn't take Legilimency for Severus to know the true reason was that this Mrs. Clark didn't want either boy in her class, as there were 'a few openings' in the class. However, Petunia didn't question the explanation.

"I'm so proud of you!" Petunia's irritation at Harry and Severus forgotten as she gathered up Severus's registration paperwork. "I know someone who's getting a special dinner tonight!"

Dudley sulked, his arms crossed. He perked up a bit at the mention of food though.

"So we're settled? Stephen will bring his immunization paperwork on the first day. Harry still needs to see an optometrist."

"Yes, of course. Come along sweetie. Boys, move."

"Can we get pizza?" Dudley whined.


	4. The First Day of School

**Chapter Three**

The First Day of School

* * *

Harry loved his new glasses. Of course, the only children's NHS glasses they had were ugly round ones, but Harry didn't care. He could see! He didn't realize it was possible to see the television clearly from across the room. His new brother however, didn't like his own new glasses, and refused to wear them. Uncle Vernon had to threaten him in order to get his eyes checked. He then threatened him even more to get him to wear them.

They saw the dentist too. His new brother and Uncle Vernon got in another fight, as Stevie didn't want a the checkup and cleaning. Uncle Vernon then got even madder after learning that Stevie needed braces but the NHS probably wouldn't pay for them. He could tell that the older boy didn't want the braces, but would get them just to spite the grumpy man.

The immunizations went better. He'd never known anyone to volunteer for needle jabs, and it turned out to be a lot of them. He even had to go back over the next few months for boosters. Even Harry had to get one, a flu shot.

For the first time, Harry was looking forward to the first day of school. Dudley wouldn't be in his class, and he wouldn't be alone. He never had school friends before, and his new brother was better than a friend.

"Dudders! It's time to go!" Petunia grabbed her car keys. "Do you two have your notes? I don't want a call from the nurse."

"Yes Aunt Petunia."

"Stevie, do you have your reading glasses?"

The boy grunted, too tired to argue. There was no coffee this morning. Harry guessed that Aunt Petunia stopped making it just so the other boy couldn't have any. His uncle now bought it by the cup on the way to work. Doughnuts too.

"Dudley, do you have your backpack? Is everything in it?"

Harry and the older boy didn't have school bags. Instead, they each had a spiral notebook stuffed into a plastic bag filled with remnants of Dudley's supplies from last year.

"Get in the car, both of you!" Petunia screeched. "Dudley, let's go honey."

"Are you excited?" Harry asked. The older boy didn't seem so, but he asked to fill the silence in the car while they waited for his aunt and cousin.

"Thrilled."

Harry giggled. He was excited. He was especially excited about going to school in his new 'school clothes.'

"I love nothing more than hauling my ass out of bed each morning to interact with a horde of rambunctious dunderheads."

"Dudley won't be in our class, but we'll have to see him at recess."

"Hm."

"And Aunt Petunia will have to do the morning chores," Harry said. "And if we get there early enough, we get breakfast!"

"That won't happen if those two don't hurry."

"That's okay if we don't get breakfast. We'll still get lunch. The first day is always the best day."

* * *

So far, Severus wasn't impressed with the muggle education system. No wonder muggles were so stupid.

The free breakfast turned out to be a small cardboard box of sugary cereal, another box of odd tasting milk, and flavorless apple slices from a plastic bag. Severus scrutinized the 'sell by date' on the packages, wondering how the muggles kept the apples from turning brown, before studying the lackluster nutritional information on the cereal box. He was convinced that the box and plastic bag was more nutritious than the food.

Next, the students adjourned to a playground, where they ran about like animals until a bell rung. And like trained animals, they gathered into lines at the doors to various classrooms. Harry and Snape waited in line at a door with the sign reading 'Mrs. Smyth.'

In the line in for the class next door, Dudley sneered at Severus and Harry, "retards." A small group of boys around him snickered.

"Look at his clothes." One of the boys surrounding Dudley jeered, pointing at Snape. The tidy black polo and trousers Severus wore were generically muggle enough. He wasn't sure what was funny about them. "Did his grandmother pick them out?"

"It's the height of creepy-nerdy-freak fashion."

"Harry had to beg my mom for those crappy cheap trainers."

"Turn around and look towards the front of the line," Severus said. Harry's face turned red and Severus could see him fighting back the urge to cry. He wasn't sure why the jeers about shoes should hurt the boy. He tried to remember what it was like to be Harry's age, but even then Severus never cared what others thought of him. It was survival trait he learned early. "Ignore them."

"But he's making fun of you. That's not right-"

"I can defend myself should I chose to do so." He grabbed the boy's shoulders and turned him to face the front of the line. The jeering shifted towards Harry's NHS glasses. Then to his own NHS glasses. Not getting the desired response, the conversation turned towards Dudley's exaggerated tale of Severus trip to the Dentist and his need for braces, how his father didn't want to pay for them. Several times he had to stop Harry form jumping to his defense.

For some reason, Harry felt obligated to heedlessly jump to his defense. This was a habit Severus was determined to nip in the bud. "Think, what would happen should you mindlessly leap to my defense?"

Harry shrugged.

The bell rung again and the children filed into the class. "Their attention will shift from me and focus on you. They'll see that their words bothered you, and redouble their efforts to provoke you. They'll do this until they finally find something that'll evoke a physical response, getting you into trouble. It'll draw unnecessary attention to you."

"But it's not right," Harry said simply, not swayed by Severus's logic. "They shouldn't make fun of you."

"I don't care if they do."

"But they shouldn't do it. It's mean."

"I reiterate, I don't care."

"Find your desks," the teacher shouted above the hubbub. "Find the desk with your nametag on it!"

The names on the desks appeared to be arranged randomly. He noticed that he was across the room from Harry.

"Here, give Mrs. Smyth our notes for the nurse."

While Harry distracted the teacher, he swapped his nametag with the child assigned sit behind Harry. He also noted that Harry's desk was right next to the teacher's, apparently having earned the reputation of a troublemaker.

"Don't get in trouble!" Harry gasped when he realized that he's swapped the nametags.

"Now you care about causing trouble?" he asked, perplexed. "Hush. I doubt she noticed," he lied. Had this been his classroom, he's put the troublemaker next to his desk and any potentially distracting child on the other side of the room. However, the woman didn't say anything and the misplaced child remained clueless.

The class began with a game of 'who am I and what I did for vacation.' It was pointless as most of the students seemed to know each other, and of their cohorts summertime activities. Harry's tale focused on 'his new big brother.' Most of the children seemed to relish the opportunity to brag about vacations, birthday parties, and swimming at the new waterpark in town. Severus simply told them his assumed name, refusing to share a story.

Textbooks and workbooks were passed out. Cubby holes and coat hooks were assigned. Rules were read and warnings issued.

By the time lunch rolled around, Severus was thoroughly bored. And the food wasn't any better than breakfast.

"What are these?" Severus held up one of the oblong-ish brown 'things' supplied to him in his free publicly funded meal. It was covered in breadcrumbs and greasy. It was also a bit soggy.

"Chicken nuggets." Harry and the other children seemed to like them well enough. He picked one up and tasted it.

He missed the food at Hogwarts.

It was somehow both salty and bland, tasting nothing like chicken. The meat had an odd texture, nothing like poultry. Sugary apple sauce, overcooked peas, and a cardboard box of that odd tasting milk rounded out the meal. It was all scooped onto a plastic tray by an anonymous cafeteria worker with questionable hygiene and a hairnet. "And we're to eat this every day?"

"No silly!" Harry giggled. "Tomorrow is Taco Tuesday, my favorite. There's Fish Stick Friday too."

Severus didn't know what a 'fish stick' was and wasn't looking forward to eating one.

"Perhaps it'd be best if we brought our own lunch," Severus noticed that several students ate food brought from home, including Dudley. His leftover casserole looked tastier and more nutritious.

"No, please," Harry protested, shaking his head. "Aunt Petunia will make it, and sometimes she forgets to put the food in the bag, or doesn't remember how long it was in the fridge. This is loads better."

"She just 'forgets' my ass."

"Mrs. Smyth!" a girl next to Severus tattled with a nasty smirk. "Stephen said a bad word!"

Severus rolled his eyes.

* * *

After lunch, Severus was 'punished' by having to stand at the 'time-out wall.' Several other troublemakers moped there, watching as their friends played. Occasionally one of the teachers blew a whistle, and anther troublemaker was added to the wall.

There, he watched as Harry was shooed off towards the playground. It didn't take long for Dudley and his friends to descend upon the boy. Soon they took turns chasing Harry in some kind of twisted relay. It was obvious that he was being bullied, but Harry easily outran them.

Severus decided to let the situation playout, as the exercise would do Harry some good. It'd serve to teach the boy how to evade capture and hopefully toughening him up a bit at the same time. He'd watch carefully though, making sure it didn't get out of hand.

"You little idiot," Severus muttered as he watched Harry deftly scramble to the top of the monkey bars. He was temporarily out of reach from his bullies, but trapped.

A whistle blew, and a teacher banished Harry from the playground to the relative safety of the timeout wall. It didn't take Legilimency to know he did it on purpose, too tired to run anymore. The boy had the audacity to smirk as he plopped down next to him at the wall.

* * *

Harry had the best first day of school, ever. Dudley wasn't in his class. His new brother sat next to him. He got a hot school lunch and breakfast, and hopefully would continue to get them. Even sitting at the timeout wall couldn't smash his spirits.

The older boy however, looked bored and cranky. He thumbed through his math workbook, calling it 'muggle claptrap,' whatever that was.

"Didn't you have fun?" Harry asked, breaking the silence as they waited for Aunt Petunia to pick them up.

"I could hardly contain myself," came the sarcastic reply. He fished out a ballpoint pen from his jacket pocket and began scribbling the answers to his homework.

Harry watched in wonderment as his brother quickly worked his way through the worksheet. It was just a review of last year's fractions and long division, but Harry was impressed at how quickly he did it in his head. He didn't even need a calculator, able to do fractions and long division in his head.

"You're dead, freaks!" Dudley snickered as he rounded the corner, smirking. "When I tell mum what you two did today, you'll be in trouble."

"We didn't do anything!" Harry protested.

"I believe he's referring to our brief stint at the timeout wall." The older boy finished his math and closed the workbook. Harry knew it would take him a lot longer to finish it, later tonight.

"Oh." Harry deflated. He'd been looking forward to dinner. He doubted he'd still get some now if he was in trouble.

Dudley's face twisted into an ugly smirk. "I get to have dinner with my parents without you two ruining it!"

"That's not fair!"

"Do my homework and I won't tell mum."

"You promise not to tell your dad either?" Harry knew this trick well. Sometimes Dudley would wait for him to finish his homework, and then tell his father.

"No," Severus interrupted as he got out his spiral notebook and began his 'what would I have I like to have done last summer but didn't' essay. "You need to do your own work. Harry has his own homework to complete."

"Have it your way, creep."

"I'm unconcerned."

"Stevie, maybe—"

"No," he rapidly scrawled across the paper in a tidy script that Harry could hardly read. He learned cursive last year, but wasn't used to reading it.

Harry was unsure of what to do. He wanted dinner, and Dudley could get nasty. It was easier to go along with the bully.

"I'm telling that you refused to wear your glasses."

Severus briefly looked up, his new reading glasses perched on his nose. "Go ahead."

Harry's response was cut short by a honk. Aunt Petunia was here. Gleefully, Dudley smirked as he waddled to the car's front seat.

"How was your day, Sweetums?"

"Good, better than Harry's and Stevie's."

"Oh?" Petunia pulled out into traffic.

"They got into trouble. They had to sit at the timeout wall at lunch and recess. And Stevie didn't wear his glasses."

"That's not true!" Harry protested.

"Hush. Thank you for telling mummy." She glared at the two boys through the rearview mirror. "I'll get you a special treat when we get home."

"We were good! Stevie wore his glasses all day. He's wearing them now! Anyhow, how would Dudley know? He's in another class."

"Hush! I don't want to hear another peep out of you!" Petunia changed lanes, cutting off a little old lady in a beat up old car. "You'll be dealt with when we get home."

"But it's not fair!"

"Let it go, Potter," the older boy quietly said. "Life isn't fair."

"But—"

"Drop it."

"Listen to him you little brat!" Petunia snapped. "I'm sick and tired of your fibbing."

"I'm sorry," he quietly said. Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he looked out the side window. It was useless to try and hide them, but he tried anyways. He wasn't sure why he was sad, he should be used to not being fairly treated. "I'll try to be better."

"Humph. I've heard that one before. You and your type never change," Petunia bit out. "I want you two to stay in your room tonight after you weed the flowerbeds. I'll let Vernon decide what to do with you."

Dudley smirked. "Can I have some money? Me and Peirs want to go hang out."

"Of course, honey," the woman's tone changed from shrill to cloying while talking to her son. "Be home for dinner. I have a special dinner planned."

The ugly smirk turned into a giggle. "Yes Mummy."

* * *

"I told you, there would be no shenanigans!" Vernon thundered as he waddled up to the two boys working in the backyard flowerbed. Apparently, he had a bad day at work and needed to blow off steam. "I told you to keep your noses clean!"

"But Uncle-"

"There will be no dinner tonight! You'll stay in your room!"

"I'm sorry Uncle, but—"

"For pity sake Potter, quit apologizing," Severus cut off Harry. "Our actions today were no different from that of any typical child our age."

"You caused trouble, when I clearly told you not to!"

"Our actions were exaggerated and fabricated by Dudley."

"Are you calling my son a liar?" Vernon's face turned from red to purple. His eye twitched.

"Yes."

"Stevie, no!" Harry warned.

"Your son is a liar. So is Petunia." Severus saw Vernon's fist ball up and calmly took a step back, out of reach. However, at the same time Harry moved in front of Severus, intending to shield him.

The blow hit Harry on the temple, knocking him into Snape.

Severus shoved Harry behind him and drew his wand. The boy fell to the ground and lay there amongst the roses, half conscious.

Surprise registered on Vernon's face. He'd swung at Harry in the past, knowing the boy was quick enough to dodge out of the way. He'd never actually struck the boy before, and hadn't really expected to now. It took a moment for the shock to clear up enough to realize there was a wand pointed between his eyes.

"You will never strike the boy again."

"Put that thing away!" Vernon hissed, surprise melting into anger again. He took half a step forward, intending to snatch the wand away.

Severus sent a wandless immobilizing hex towards Vernon. It was weak enough for any wizard to break through, but a muggle would have difficultly moving.

"You will listen to me carefully, Dursley." Severus said. "If the situation warrants it, you may discipline the boy with chores. However, you will never withhold food nor strike Harry again."

"Now you see here—"

"No! I've tried bargaining and reasoning with you to no avail. If I have to threaten you, I will."

"You—"

"I suggest you leave us be, Dursley." He released the hex and Vernon stumbled slightly. He returned his wand to its magical pocket. "Turn around and go into the house, and I will not inform Magical Law Enforcement what transpired today. Have Petunia fix a bag of ice for Harry. Dinner will be brought promptly to our room tonight."

Vernon scrutinized the two boys for a second, before turning towards the house, falling for the bluff. Severus warily watched, waiting until the man was in the house before focusing on Harry. The boy blinked up at Severus, oblivious to what had just happened between his uncle and Severus.

"Can you sit up?"

"Hunh?" his face and arms were covered in scratches from the rose bush. His glasses were skewed on his face, the frames bent a bit. "Whu happen?"

"You jumped in front of your uncle's fist. He concussed you." Severus frowned at the slurred words and unfocused eyes. He gripped Harry by the shoulder and helped him to sit up, then pulled him to his feet. "Stand up. I need to get you upstairs."

Harry threw up at the movement. Severus pointed him away as he retched, and the sick coated one of Petunias roses. "Come on."

Slowly, they made their way to the house. The kitchen was deserted, but a plastic baggie of ice waited on the counter. Severus grabbed a tea towel and wrapped it around the ice. He held it to the growing bruise.

Harry hissed in pain. "'m gonna be sick 'gain."

"Keep moving. We're almost there. You can lay down when we get there."

Harry stumbled up the stairs, mostly pulled up by Severus. By the time they reached the room, Harry was losing consciousness again. Blood from numerus scratches smeared Severus's clothes and then the bedspread. "Wake up."

"Hunh?"

"Stay awake," Severus pulled several potions out of his knapsack. "You need to drink these."

"'kay."

"You're an idiot, Potter. You hardly know me. These potions could be anything," Severus sighed. "You're too trusting. Never drink a potion without at least asking what it is."

"Potions?" Harry stupidly asked, not registering Severus's words.

"Magical medicine. No, stay awake." He held a bubbly blue potion to Harry's lips and tipped the contents into his mouth. Severus held his hand over Harry's mouth to keep the boy from spitting it out.

"Oh, ick." The healing potion was quick acting, clearing the boy's mind a bit.

"Now this one. Open up." He poured the pain potion into Harry's mouth. The boy nearly gagged at the taste. Again, he had to cover the boy's mouth before he could spit it out. "Oh no you don't, I don't have an endless supply of these."

"I don't want your gross tea." Harry weakly protested.

"Last one, I promise. Open up." He held up a vial with a lumpy brown solution inside.

"No."

"Take it and you can go to sleep for a while."

"No. Wha—"

Quicker than Harry expected, the third potion was poured into his mouth and swallowed.

"That wasn't very nice. I don't make you drink gross stuff," Harry admonished sleepily, his eyes drooping. "Dudley used sit on me and make me eat grass, though."

"Jump in front of your uncle's fat fist again and you'll have to worry about more than a few foul tasting potions to deal with."

"Uncle Vernon wanted to hurt you."

"That doesn't matter. You should have let him."

"No. I needed to help you."

"Let me make this clear for you," Severus crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at Harry, his eyes cold and steely. "I can defend myself from an obese muggle. Furthermore, you're never to endanger yourself on mine, or anyone's behalf. If I'm ever hurt, you're to go to Figgs house."

"Missis Figg? But—"

"But nothing! Had he hit you on the temple! Had it been a bit harder he could have given you more than a mild concussion! We'd be having this conversation at a hospital, that is if you ever woke up!"

Harry sleepily stared up at Severus. It was obvious that he didn't want to argue, but didn't accept Severus's point either. "Go to sleep. We'll talk about this later."


	5. The Test

**Chapter Four**

The Test

* * *

Severus had been teaching eleven year olds since 1981. In that time, he'd learned what to expect from his muggleborn students. He knew how they behaved, their general skill level, and ultimately how to emulate their test results.

However, this particular test left him flummoxed. The test was multiple choice, something as a professor he detested. The answers were 'written' on a separate sheet of numbered circles that had to be colored in with a graphite pencil. The questions were odd, leaving him with no idea how skew the answers to a ten year old muggle.

 _Which of the four shapes complete the picture above?_

 _Which larger shape would be made if the two sections pictured below are fitted together?_

 _Which shape completes the pattern?_

He and Harry had only a year of muggle education left. The results of any muggle placement test would be moot at Hogwarts, so he decided to enjoy the simple puzzles. Noticing that there appeared to be a limited time to finish numerus questions, he worked through them quickly.

There was only five minutes left when he finished. He placed his pencil on the desk, closed the booklet, and turned the answer sheet over. He observed the muggle students. Most appeared to be only two thirds of the way through the test. Harry appeared further along than most, but still not finished.

"Stephen! Eyes on your own test!" the proctor whispered.

"I'm finished."

"Then put your head on your desk," the woman snapped. "Some of the students are trying to do well."

"Dumb muggle cow," he whispered to himself after she walked away, giving into the childish impuses that seemed to plague him now. He folded his arms onto the desk, and rest his head on them. For the remainder of the test, he stared at the wall, bored. Finally, the bell rung, marking the end of both the testing and classes for the day.

"That was a day wasted," Severus complained.

"I thought the test was okay," Harry said, always disgustingly optimistically happy. "Some of the puzzles were fun."

"Like most muggle nonsense, it was a pointless waste of time."

"It's an IQ test. Some schools use them as a part of the tests to get in."

"Hey 'tards," Dudley and several of his friends sniggered as they approached. Severus rolled his eyes, Harry became anxious. "I head you failed the test."

"I suspect they'll make a whole new category for your test results, just for you, Dudders," Harry quipped, not missing a beat.

Dudley blinked, not sure how to interpret that.

"I think he just insulted you, Big D," Piers whispered to Dudley.

"Get him!"

Severus watched as Harry took off, the three boys following. The bruise at his temple from a week ago was faint, but still visible. Several new bruises had joined the collection since then, all given to him by Dudley.

Severus fingered the handle of his wand as he watched. Harry was faster, and usually escaped, unscathed. One boy wouldn't cause Harry much harm, but all three of them could cause a bit of damage. And though his head wound had healed, another blow wasn't recommended.

The chase continued for several minutes. It was winding down, the bullies tiring of the chase when it happened. Harry rolled his ankle, and tumbled to the play field, hitting the ground hard. The three boys converged atop the boy, Dudley taking a seat on Harry. Severus winced as Dudley pulled Harry's head up by the hair and began stuffing grass into Harry's mouth.

"That's enough, Dudley."

"I'll tell you when he's had enough, creep."

"I believe I just told you to get off him." Severus grabbed Dudley by the ear and pulled him off Harry.

"Ow! Don't just stand there, Malcom! Piers!" Dudley swung a meaty fist. Snape caught it and pulled it behind his back, using the boy's momentum to wrench the arm painfully. He still held the ear in the other hand. "Help me!"

The two other boys dumbly watched as the smaller boy deftly manhandled Dudley. They burst out laughing as Severus shoved him in the direction of the waiting car. "Your mother is waiting for you. Be gone."

"You two are worthless," Dudley wined as he rubbed his shoulder and ambled towards the street, where Petunia waited in her car. His cronies followed, snickering.

"The weird new kid just kicked your ass, Big D!" Malcom jeered.

"Shut up. I'll get the little shit back later."

"Sure you will," Piers teased.

Dudley responded, but he was too far away to hear what it was.

Harry spat out a mouthful of grass as he sat up. "Thanks."

"How's that ankle?"

"It hurts."

"Of course it hurts, you little dunderhead! Can you stand on it?" Severus looked up. Dudley was almost to the car. "We'd better hurry."

"I don't think so," Harry stood with Severus's help. He helped Harry limp towards the car. They hadn't gone more than twenty feet when Petunia's car pulled out, leaving the two boys behind.

"If we hurry we can take the school bus," Harry said as the first of several yellow busses pulled out.

"I doubt it."

"There's the regular bus, it'll drop us off at the part on Wisteria Walk."

"Do you know which bus route to take? Do you have fare?"

"No." Tears welled in Harry's eyes and he bit his lower lip. "Aunt Petunia told me she'd leave me behind before, but she's never done it. I didn't think she'd really would."

"Life is full of harsh lessons." Severus sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt uneasy. The boy needed comfort at the new betrayal of his family, but he wasn't sure of how to do that. The decision was taken from him when Harry flung his arms around him. He winced as the boy's nose began to drip on his jacket. The tears slowed after a few moments and several awkward pats on the back. "Here, sit back down. Let me see your ankle. Take off your shoe."

"No, it hurts too much." Harry snuffled, and the tears threatened again.

"It needs to come off before your ankle swells too much." Severus pried the shoe off, trying not to jar the foot. He suppressed a wince at the sight. It was already swelling and turning purple. "Can you move it?"

Harry wiggled his toes, then moved his ankle a little. "Yeah, but it hurts."

"I don't think it's broken," Severus said, weighing his options. The simplest was to just apparate to their bedroom and his cache of potions, but he immediately dismissed that. The Ministry would notice the magic, and they were most certainly watching the area after the deatheater attack some weeks ago. The second was to use his wand to heal the boy. It was less likely to be noticed, but still a risk. The third option was a wandless healing spell, but he doubted if he had the strength to pull it off and it would leave him magically exhausted. He chose the last option. "I can try to heal it, then we can walk back."

"You can do that?"

"I might, just enough for us to walk back. If not, we have other options." Severus sat on the ground, and began clearing his mind. He pulled the ankle to his lap. "I'll need silence. Try not to move. There won't be a second try if the first fails."

"How—"

"Silence!"

Harry nodded, his red eyes wide with equal parts hope and unabashed faith in Severus. The look sent a shiver of trepidation down his spine. He was a thirty year old deatheater and lying to the boy about his identity. While not exactly misplaced, that trust wasn't earned. He needed to find a way to stop the boy from blindly trusting.

Severus stilled his thoughts, closed his eyes, and reached for his magic. He spoke the spell as he held his hands over the wound. He pushed his magic towards the sprain, and kept pushing until he couldn't anymore.

Drained, he opened his eyes to find Harry staring at him, worried. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just tired. How's your ankle?"

"Better." He wiggled his toes. The swelling had gone down, but the bruising was still ugly. "It's sore, but I think I can walk now."

"I need to rest a bit first. Pit your sock and shoe back on."

"Oh no! Stevie look!"

"What?" Startled, Severus looked about the schoolyard, searching for the source of the boy's distress.

"My jeans, they're torn!"

"For pity's sake, Potter." Severus rolled his eyes. Oddly, the boy seemed more distress at the torn fabric than the dirt crusted and bloody knee poking out of said hole. "Pay it no mind. There's nothing to be done about it now."

"But you got me these, and Aunt Petunia won't buy me another pair."

"You've begun a growth spurt and gained several pounds since you began the potion. I doubt you'd be wearing them much longer."

"But—"

"The next time you decide to provoke Dudley, remember this."

"He started it."

"And you should have finished it by ignoring him!" Severus snapped. "Because of your impulsiveness you're injured again. I'm magically exhausted, leaving you vulnerable. You're stuck without a way back to your home. Worst of all, I lacked the foresight to carry some basic healing potions for you."

"Sorry," Harry quietly said. Once again, tears were threatening.

"We should get moving. It's a little more than a mile," Severus did a quick calculation. "It'd take us twenty minutes on a good day. It'll take is twice as long with that ankle, if not more. If we leave now, I'll get you back before dark.

* * *

It took the two boys nearly an hour to make it home. Half healed, Harry's foot pained him the whole way. At first he could slowly walk with a limp, but towards the end of the walk he couldn't put his full weight on it. Severus's wandless healing was nearly undone by the time they made it to the front steps.

"It's dark," Harry remarked at the dark house. "They went somewhere. The door's probably locked."

Severus deposited Harry on the steps and tried the doorknob. Sure enough, it was locked. "What the fuck?"

"Look under the mat for the spare key."

There was no key.

"The flowerpot?"

No key.

"Try the loose brick, then inside the porch light."

Still, no key.

"Dudley probably took the key again. Try the back door, then see if the kitchen window is locked."

"That might not be necessary." Severus put his hand on the knob as he focused his mind. Two taxing wandless spells in under an hour was well within Dumbledore's abilities, but he wasn't sure if he could manage it. "Alohomora."

The doorknob unlocked. Refusing to let himself stop and rest, he repeated the process on the deadbolt. It took far more energy than expected.

"Are you okay?"

"Peachy," Severus grumbled, resting his forehead on the jam. He made no move to open the door, he just stood there for a moment, resting. "Just how many times have you been locked out, anyway?"

"A few," Harry shrugged as he watched the other boy. "How'd you do that?"

"Wandless spells require both strength of magic and focus of mind."

"I used to unlock my cupboard all the time."

"Did you notice that as you got older, it became harder? Less reliable?"

Harry thought about that for a second. "A little, yeah."

"Accidental magic is different from wandless. Accidental magic derives its strength from emotion. As a child grows, they learn to control their emotion, ceasing outbursts. Wandless magic depends on strength of focus, of clarity of mind. Nearly all children perform accidental magic. Very few adults learn controlled wandless."

"Will you teach me?"

"I've already begun. Why do you think I keep telling you to clear your mind?"

"I try, but can't," on one leg, Harry stood on one foot, using the porch post for balance.

"Without mental discipline you'll never learn it." Severus pushed himself from the doorjamb and opened the door. "Keep practicing."

Severus pulled Harry's arm over his shoulder so the boy could limp into the house. He deposited Harry near the couch and went upstairs to get some potions, turning on lights as he went. When he returned, he found Harry on the sofa, his shoe off.

"Thanks." Harry eyed the muddy-green analgesic potion as Severus examined the foot. "It looks like pond scum."

"It'll reverse the swelling and help with the pain. Drink it," Severus commanded as he unscrewed the lid off a jar of brown paste. He smeared a liberal glob onto the ankle.

"It tingles."

"It's repairing tissue damage. The discoloration will have to heal on its own."

"Are you still mad at me? For making us miss our ride?"

"I was irked, mostly at myself," Severus sighed as he wiped his fingers on one of Petunia's frilly throw pillows. The brat needed constant reassurance. Were all children so needy? "Do not concern yourself with it. I'm the one who allowed the situation to get out of control."

"How's it your fault? Dudley and his friends were the ones who chased me. Aunt Petunia's the one who left us to walk home."

"I inadvertently encouraged the situation, thinking the exercise would toughen you up. I allowed it without considering the consequences of what would happen should we have to find our own way here should you become injured—something I shall rectify."

"How're you supposed to have known I'd trip?"

"That's the point!" Severus snapped. "I didn't know, and I was unprepared for the situation."

"It's okay. It's just a sprained ankle."

"This time." How did he explain to the child that that his former colleagues were out there, wanting to kill him? Next time it might not be a schoolyard bully chasing them. The deatheaters seen in the area not more than a month ago were still at large.

"It's okay. Every time I outrun Dudley it makes him mad."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. Using logic to argue with a child was impossible, and the discussion wasn't really about a sprained ankle.

"Remember when you said it's okay that I tore my new trousers? That it wasn't a big deal? Well, you not stopping Dudley isn't a big deal. I've out run him loads of times. I've also walked home before."

* * *

The other boy ripped the note off the fridge door and crumpled it. He threw it across the kitchen. They were to stay in their room with no dinner as punishment for attacking Dudley.

"It's Friday. They probably took Dudley out to dinner and the cinema," Harry said. "He probably told them that you hurt his ear."

"His earlobe is fine. His arm and wrist might be a little sore tomorrow."

Harry limped to the counter. Most of his pain was gone and the other boy said it'd be better by morning.

"Stay off that foot. Sit at the table." He opened the fridge and rummaged through the foil covered dishes within. He settled on yesterday's pot roast and potatoes. There was just enough left for the both of them.

"Stop!" Harry said as he was about to put the dish in the microwave. "You can't put metal in the microwave."

"Why the hell not?"

"I don't know. I think the foil and radiation will make the microwave explode. "

"Preposterous muggle nonsense," the other boy eyed the microwave oven suspiciously. "I highly doubt it'll explode."

"You sure?"

"Yes," he said as he put the dish in the microwave, foil and all. "Is twenty minutes enough?"

"That's too much. Try three. No, not that one. That resets the clock."

Severus pushed more buttons, finally managing to input three minutes.

"It's set to defrost," Harry stood, getting nervous. He wasn't so sure it wouldn't explode. "Here, let me do it."

"Put your butt back in that chair."

Harry sat back down. "Push 'cook' and the green 'start' button."

The microwave started as normal. The light came on, and the dish spun on the carousal. But then the foil sparked once, and then again, arcing within the metal folds. It did it again and again. "Stop! Hit stop!"

He fumbled for the right button. Smoke curled from a spot on the foil.

"No, the red one!" Harry stood again. Finally it stopped, and the older boy opened the door.

"Interesting," the other boy observed as he poked at the foil. "Sparks seemed to have ignited the aluminum foil, yet the food remains cold."

"Yeah, fascinating," Harry replied sarcastically. He pointed at the plastic bowl-shaped disk on the counter. "Take off the foil and use the splatter guard."

* * *

"I've told you, time and time again, to stay away from my son!" Vernon snarled as he walked in through the front door. Dudley followed behind, one arm in a sling, his free hand gripping a half-eaten ice-cream cone. The boy smirked nastily.

"I had to take Dudley to urgent care." Petunia followed behind Vernon, a glare plastered on her face. "Do you have any idea why?"

"Did he lose consciousness due to a blow to the head?" Severus asked sarcastically, faking mild concern.

Vernon sputtered. The vein in his forehead began to bulge.

"Your bullying has gone too far!" Petunia shrieked. "I watched as you manhandled my son!"

"He hurt my arm, mummy."

"Yes, I know sweetums," she cooed as she petted his head.

"Preposterous. I simply encouraged him to get off Harry."

"You left a bruise on his lobe!" Vernon wagged a finger as he sputtered. "You wrenched his arm enough to hurt it!"

"Inducing mild discomfort in order to assist in your son's decision was the general idea."

"Ha! So you admit it!"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "That I assisted in his decision to get off of Harry? Of course."

"Hurt my son again, and I'll call the police," Petunia snarled. "I'll have them lock you up in a juvenile detention center so fast that your head will spin!"

Severus narrowed his eyes at Vernon. "Yes. Let's call law enforcement, shall we?"

Vernon sputtered. "That's won't be necessary."

"Vernon!" Harry silently watched the exchange, sensing there was more going on than what there seemed. He wanted to watch, but the older boy pulled him towards the stairs and their room.

"Now Pet, perhaps-"

"What's wrong with you lately, Vernon?" Petunia turned her attention to the man. "Since when do you take the little brat's side?"

"Are you blackmailing Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked as Severus shut and locked the bedroom door. His aunt and uncle's raised voices could be heard through the door, muffled. Petunia sounded angry.

"Don't worry about it."

"Uncle Vernon and Dudley might fall for it, but it won't work on Aunt Petunia." Harry pulled the old tee and sweats he slept in out of the dresser. "She'll figure it out and make Uncle Vernon do what she wants."

"The day that muggle gets one over me is the day I'm sorted into Gryffindor."

"Hunh?"

"Never mind. Get off that foot and go to bed."

* * *

"Boys! Get your damn butts down here!" Petunia yelled. "Now!"

Harry looked up from his homework at his roommate. As usual, he had his nose buried in a big, boring book. Several spiral notebooks of notes were scattered about on the bed where he sat.

"She sounds mad." Did they do something? Harry racked his brain, but couldn't think of anything. The last couple of weeks had been quiet. Nothing had happened since he sprained his ankle.

The older boy snapped his book shut, and gathered his notes. For some reason, he never left them out. Even if he only left the room to go to the bathroom, he always sealed them in his magic backpack. He was the only one he'd let read them, but they were boring and made no sense.

"Boys! Now!"

"Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry yelled. "You'd better hurry. She's gonna pop one."

"I wouldn't want her to 'pop one,' now would I?" The other boy rolled his eyes and made no effort to hurry. He organized his notes neatly and precisely. Harry impatiently watched as he deliberately took his time.

Harry knew that he wanted Aunt Petunia to do exactly that. He knew the limits he could push her before she got nasty. The older boy was trampling all over that line, pushing her.

"It took you two long enough! What where you two doing up there?"

"Homework," Harry answered at the same time the other boy said, "none of your business."

The woman glared at them. He raised an eyebrow, silently challenging her.

"I just received a call from your school. They want to meet with us tomorrow evening," Petunia snapped as she placed a casserole dish on the table. It smelled good and Harry's mouth watered. "I'll give you one chance to confess. What have you done this time?"

"Nothing, I swear!" Harry looked at the other boy, silently asking for help. He simply watched their interaction with fathomless dark eyes.

"If I hear you've been climbing on the school roof again, there'll be hell to pay!"

"I didn't climb up there!" Harry was getting tired of hearing about the roof. He didn't do it, and nobody believed him. "I don't know how I got up there! The wind must have pushed me."

"I'm sick of your nonsense. This is your last chance, boy. Tell me what you did! Were you cheating off of Dudders? Copying his homework again?"

"Harry has his faults, but academic dishonesty doesn't appear to be one of them," the oldest boy spoke up. "We do not know what the meeting pertains to."

"Was it you? What did you do?"

"I assure you, should I do something, you'll know it was me."

She glared at the two as she shoved two plates of food towards them. It wasn't tonight's casserole, but leftover soggy veggies from yesterday's dinner, and cheese sandwiches on bread that was about to turn. "Eat in your room. I want all of the dishes washed after. Clean the kitchen and then take out the trash. The floor needs to be mopped again. I don't wasn't to hear a peep from either of you tonight."

* * *

"Hello. Thank you for taking the time to meet with us today," Mrs. Smyth greeted Petunia as she guided the group to the Headmistress office.

"Please, take a seat," the headmistress said as she guided the group into her office. "I realize that I set up this meeting on short notice."

"Well, yes. Whatever those two have done now must be dealt with," Petunia replied, the three boys following. Dudley smirked at the prospect of watching the two get in trouble. Harry was glum, and Severus's expression was closed as usual. "It's best to nip whatever those two have done in the bud before it gets out of hand."

"I apologize if I gave you the impression the boys were in trouble," the teacher blinked in surprise. "I assure you, Stephen and Harry are well behaved. Both are doing well. Harry's scores have improved from last year. Stephen's attention tends to wander, but I suspect that's because he's ahead of the other students and bored with the work."

"Humph. I suspect it's because he's a lay-about."

Again, the teacher didn't seem to know what to make of Petunia's ire towards the boys. "We called you here to discuss the results of some tests the boys took several weeks ago."

"Some kind of CATs, wasn't it?"

"This school generally doesn't issue the CATs, so it was one of several schools selected to participate in a study," the headmistress said. "The test wasn't a traditional CAT, but more of a modified IQ test."

"Normally the scores are kept confidential, but this is an unusual situation," Mrs. Smyth added. "Harry did extremely well. However, a specialist out of Oxford would like to follow up with Stephen."

"Harry did well? There must be some kind of mistake. His marks are consistently lower than Dudley's." Petunia pointed a derisive finger at Severus. "I can understand waning to study HIM though."

"You should be proud of Harry. His score was in the eightieth percentile." The headmistress and teacher shared a look. "Stephen however, is a very gifted boy. "

"Nonsense. He couldn't figure out how to operate the coffee maker the other day. I'm a busy woman, and I don't have time to waste for some crackpot to study the boy, based on obviously inaccurate test results."

"The specialist will come to the school. We can arrange for it to occur during arts and crafts," Mrs. Smyth argued. "He would like to briefly interview the Stevie, and issue several more tests. It'll not interfere with your schedule at all."

"I still don't see the point of this." She gathered her purse, jacket, and keys. "If you don't mind, I have a dinner to prepare."

"If Stephen is selected for the study, you will be compensated for his participation in the study." The headmistress sighed. "While I can't guarantee anything, gifted children are often competed for by prestigious schools. If a scholarship is awarded it could ease the admittance process for both Harry and Dudley, if the terms of his scholarship are properly negotiated."

"My husband is an alumnus of Smeltings Academy." As predicted, Petunia's attention was piqued. "That will not be necessary. One of his top clients is on the admissions board as well."

"Smeltings Academy?" Mrs. Smyth looked at the headmistress, who seemed equally as baffled. "I've never heard of it."

"Is it in England?"

"Yes! It's in England!" Petunia huffed. "I would have expected you two to have heard of some of the more prestigious schools."

"I believe the headmistress is referring to University. Cambridge or Oxford, perhaps," Severus interjected, his face oddly blank. "As you implied a moment ago, those on school admission boards are often open to persuasion."

"Yes, you're such a smart boy," the headmistress gushed. "Shall I set up the appointment for next week then?"

"No, I don't think so," Severus said before Petunia could answer. "I don't want to be a subject for study. I just want to be a normal, average-"

"Yes he will." Petunia pressed her lips together into a bloodless line as she glared at the boy. "He'll do it. Please setup the appointment, for Friday."

Harry wasn't sure how he knew it, but he knew the older boy was playing his aunt like a fiddle.

* * *

"I knew you were smart, but I didn't know you're some kind of genus, an Einstein or something."

"I'm not a genius," Severus said, not knowing what an 'einstein' was. "I merely took a test designed for muggle children. I achieved an artificially elevated score."

"Then why did you let Aunt Petunia make that appointment?" Harry asked, skeptical. In his mind, Stevie was a genius no matter what he claimed otherwise.

"Partly quid pro quo, partly curiosity."

"Quid-what?"

"Quid pro quo. It's Latin. It means that if I do this for Petunia, she'll reciprocate," Severus explained. "I have your uncle under partial control. Now I need to reign in your aunt."

"Will she go for that? She's smarter than Dudley and Uncle Vernon."

"So are most rocks," Severus quipped. "Her weakness is Dudley. Her son makes her irrational and open to manipulation. She wants her son to attend University, and she knows he may not make it on test scores alone. She wants to hedge her bets, so to speak."

"How about you? Don't you want to go to University someday?"

"Most in the Magical community opt to enter an apprenticeship." Severus sidestepped the question. He had attended Cambridge for several years before quitting, entering a potion apprenticeship at the Dark Lord's request. "Cambridge and Oxford both have several magical programs for those wishing to enter academia or research."


	6. A Familiar Face

**Chapter Five**

A Familiar Face

* * *

The Saturday breakfast was awkward. The Dursley's sat stiffly and uneasily. There was a full pot of hot coffee, and Severus was allowed to have as much as he wanted. Unexpectedly, Harry didn't have to cook and Aunt Petunia made ham and eggs for everybody. And most shocking of all, a doughnut was on everyone's plate, even Harry's. Even the morning paper, sans the sports section, made an appearance next to Severus's plate.

"We're going shopping this afternoon. Is there anything you boys need?" Vernon said to Severus, fake casual friendliness dripping from his voice.

"I want a new Nintendo game!" Dudley piped up.

"Of courses sweetums," Petunia cooed.

"Yes, Dudders. But How about you, Stephen? Harry?" Vernon said around a mouthful of food.

Harry and Severus shared a look. "Harry could use a pair of new trousers."

"I want to go to the toy store!" Dudley said in a pathetic attempt to draw attention to himself. "I want the new Transformer action figure, and that video game."

"Of course dear, we'll take you," Petunia said. "So, I've been thinking, Stevie. You don't like wearing those reading glasses. A smart looking new pair wouldn't be amiss."

"Harry could use a new pair. They were badly bent several weeks ago," Severus hinted at Vernon's violent outburst several weeks ago.

"Err, yes," Vernon's face became even redder. "Harry needs new trousers and glasses. How about you?"

"A healthy lunch for me and my brother every day will help me concentrate on my schoolwork," Severus shrewdly bargained. "A book bag for both Harry and I will be a help us stay organized. A replenished supply of writing utensils and notebook paper wouldn't be amiss."

"You're asking for lunch, paper, and pencils," Vernon blinked, skeptically. He expected the boy to blackmail him for much more. "That's it?"

"And new trousers and glasses for Harry. And book bags too."

"How about a trip to the book store?" Petunia suggested with a pinched face.

Severus froze, a forkful of food halfway to his mouth. Harry almost dropped his glass of orange juice.

"A trip to the bookstore?" the oldest boy carefully answered, interest piqued.

"No! I don't want to go to some boring, old, book store!" Dudley shouted. "There's nothing to do there!"

"Don't you want some new storybooks sweetie?"

"NO!" Dudley's face turned red, and fake tears threatened. "No Bookstores!"

"Why don't you just drop me and Stevie at the bookstore?" Harry asked. "It's in the same retail park as Marks and Spencer's."

"So it's settled?" Vernon asked.

"Why do the freaks get new books?"

"You just said that you didn't want any new books, remember?" Harry pointed out. The last time Dudley got new books he tore out the pages so Harry couldn't read them.

"I want more books than they get!"

"You're getting a video game, remember?" Harry argued.

"Perhaps you can leverage this situation to your advantage," Severus sagely suggested to Dudley. "Rather than ask for books, ask for something you truly want. Two video games perhaps?"

"Shut it, creep!" Dudley's face then brightened as he slowly processed the possibilities. "If those two losers get books, I want two video games! Wait, no, three! Ice cream too!"

"Fine." Vernon's left eye twitched.

* * *

Vernon's company car was spacious, but the backseat was still crowded with the three boys. Dudley took up the same amount of space as the two smaller boys. And he kept pinching and elbowing Harry in the ribs.

"Quit touching me, freak!"

"You're the one who keeps pinching me."

"You're in my space!" Dudley shoved Harry.

"You have half the back seat to yourself!"

Severus did his best to ignore the bickering boys as he stared out the window. The neighborhood passed by, and Vernon stopped at the red lights at the end of Wisteria Walk, the park to the left.

Snape startled as he caught the telltale shimmer of a Notice Me Not charm. Concentrating, he broke through the charm and the figure of a previous coworker materialized. Quirinus Quirrell stood by the sidewalk. His wand was out as he observed the children as they played. A strange purple turban wrapped around his head.

"What the fuck?" Severus whispered to himself. Didn't he leave for Albania last June, kicking off a year-long sabbatical? Did Dumbledore send him to check on him? As if feeling Severus's gaze, Quirrell looked up and their eyes locked.

For a long second the two regarded each other before the stoplight changed. Dursley sped away, leaving Quirrell to scrutinize the back of the car.

"Dad! Harry's gonna be carsick!" The fat boy pushed at Harry. "He's gonna ralph chunks on me!"

"Am not," the boy was pale, and had a sweaty hand pressed to his forehead.

"You okay?" Severus asked.

"I'm fine," Harry whispered. "Dudley's just giving me a headache."

"Hey!" the bigger boy elbowed Harry in the ribs, hard. "I'll give you a real headache, you little runt!"

"All of you," Vernon bellowed. "SHUT UP!"

* * *

"Did you know that creepy guy with the purple hat and funny dress?" Harry asked as he followed Severus into the store. "Was he a wizard?"

"Robe and turban," Severus corrected as he walked past the children's section towards the nonfiction. "He's a Hogwarts professor, Muggle Studies."

"What's he doing here?" He'd heard the other boy mention this 'Hogwarts' in the past, and assumed it was some kind of magical school.

"Good question." Severus thumbed through a stack of boring looking biochemistry books. He picked out a big heavy one that looked like a university textbook. "Let me worry about it."

"What do you want a book like that for?" Harry scrunched his nose. It was impossibly thick, had a lot of big words, and would take forever to read. "Is it just to make Aunt Petunia think you're smart?"

"No. I'm going to tech myself muggle science, then I'm going to teach it to you," he thrust the heavy biochemistry book into Harry's arms to hold while he perused an equally thick book on physics, and then a book about astronomy. "Hmm, muggle astronomy appears to be have advanced significantly…."

"Um," Harry searched for the right words. He didn't want to learn chemistry, but didn't want to say no to his moody companion. He got grumpy easily, especially when he said no to him. "Can't I just learn it in high school with everybody else?"

"No."

 _Why not?_ "You're not going to make me read those books, are you?"

"They're a bit advanced for you."

Relieved, Harry eyed the young adult section and more interesting titles. "I'm going over there."

"Pick out several you want, plus one educational."

* * *

"Well, you two have been busy," Vernon eyed the pile of books with distaste. He caught sight of the price tag on the biochemistry text and his eyes bulged. The small pile cost more than Dudley's three video games.

"I'll put them to good use." Of course the Dursley's would never benefit from it, but Vernon didn't need to know that.

"I'm sure you well," the threat wasn't very subtle, but it sailed right past Harry.

"Where's Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked as his uncle got out his wallet and selected a Visa card.

"She's with Dudley, getting him ice cream."

"Before lunch?" Severus asked, adding two sturdy canvas book bags for school to the pile.

"Yes! Before lunch." The irritation was rolling off the man in waves. "I want you two to put those books in the boot and keep them there 'til we get home. I don't need you waiving them under Dudley's nose, bragging."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"I can't afford to turn your bedroom into a library. Every Friday after school Petunia can drop you two off at the public library if you want to waste your time reading," he said as he rudely shoved his Visa at the cashier. "You two can get a card and a bus pass. It'll keep you out of the house and away from my family."

"Do I have to go to the library too?" Harry asked. He'd rather stay home and watch the telly, or better yet, play at the park.

"YES!" both Severus and Vernon answered at the same time. The two glared, offended that they agreed with each other about something.

"If you want me out of the house, I'd rather join the football club," Harry muttered, dejected at the thought of spending so much time at the library.

"Shut up!" Severus muttered as he kicked the boy in the shin.

"OW! Whacha do that for?"

"What a splendid idea! Fresh air and exercise will keep your noses out of trouble," Vernon agreed nastily, snatching the receipt from the cashier. "Every Tuesday and Thursday, matches on Saturday isn't it? At the school, right?"

Severus glared at Harry. Harry smiled back.

* * *

The ride home was quieter, Dudley fed and sated with material goods.

He'd never eaten at a McDonalds, and if he had anything to say about it, he never would again. The food was both salty and sugary, and had that greasy processed flavor he'd come to associate with muggle food. Harry and Dudley seemed to enjoy it, wolfing it down as if it were some kind of treat.

He looked out the window as the car passed the park. He didn't see Quirrell, nor any sign of magical activity. For all appearances, he was gone, but wasn't convinced. Somehow, he suspected Quirrell would be back.

Why was he here? Was he somehow connected to the Deatheater attack several months ago? He'd been careful, avoiding all wanded magic, even though the wards masked all but the strongest bursts of focused magic. Without the protective blood wards, any wizard would be able to detect the boy's residual wild magic, like a bonfire on a dark night.

* * *

"C'mon Stevie!" Harry excitedly ushered Severus towards the school's football field, and their first practice. Most of the children ran for the play yard to pass the time. Severus had no intention of scampering about, preferring to read.

"Practice doesn't begin for another thirty minutes," Severus sighed as he stuffed his irritation behind occlumency shields. He pulled out the biochemistry book and opened it to his bookmark. "Go play and let me read."

"It's no fun alone."

"Nonsense. There's at least thirty other little brats running about."

"None of them like me," Harry complained, looking towards his cousin. "Besides, Dudley's out there."

"Then hush up and start your homework." Severus glanced at the bully milling about with his gang of friends, throwing sawdust and rocks at the smaller children. When he heard that he and Harry were joining the football club, he wanted to join too. Of course his friends had to join. "Don't forget to let me check it when you finish."

It was Harry's turn to sigh, but he pulled out his math workbook without further complaint.

* * *

Finally the head coach's whistle sounded, signaling the beginning of practice.

Severus detested sports, but had to admit, the exercise was beneficial. Most wizards thumbed their nose at physical exercise. Severus didn't. Being able to run, dodge, or throw a punch was a useful skill, with or without a wand. A simple disarming spell would leave most wizards defenseless against a muggle style thrashing and Severus refuse to be one of them.

After a short warmup run they divided into several groups. They then ran through several game-like exercises that involved kicking a ball back and forth and passing it. Dudley was unable to keep up, so he settled for simply kicking at the shins of any child within reach when the coach wasn't looking.

Harry did surprisingly well, being both quick and coordinated. Severus did abysmally, tripping over his own feet several times, and once, over the ball. More than once he kicked the ball only to watch it shoot off in an unexpected direction. He wasn't very good at sports the first time he was a child, and this time wasn't any different.

After what seemed like forever to Severus, the practice ended and he was free from the torture.

"That was fun!" Harry's cheeks were red and his green eyes glowed as he gathered his book bag and jacket. "I can't wait to do it again. Did you see how I was able to control the ball? "

"I was too busy trying to stay upright."

"Maybe you'd do better if you wore your glasses," Harry suggested helpfully as they made their way towards the spot where Petunia was going to pick them up. Dudley trailed after them. "I wasn't very good when I didn't have mine."

"I've met bats who could see better than you," came the sarcastic reply.

"Why don't you like your glasses?"

"They remind me of a bully I once knew." Severus quietly debated how much to explain about James Potter, and resentment of how his mother neglected his vision as a child. She refused to utilize the muggle NHS, and didn't want to spend the money on something she deemed as unnecessary as it was in only in one eye. "My astigmatism is in one eye. I can see just fine out of the other."

"That's silly, not to wear 'em because of someone who's not here," Harry chided. "Didn't the eye doctor say you'd get ambelpopia and bino-something when you're a grown up?"

"Amblyopia with binocular deficiencies." And yes indeed, as an adult he had minor vision problems potions could never correct, even after he fixed the astigmatism. They'd never focus just right, leading to migraines and the occasional misaimed spell. He translated, "lazy eye with poor depth perception."

Petunia's car had just pulled up when Severus spotted that shimmer again. He focused, and sure enough, Quirrell came into view. He paced a spot between the play yard fence and the sidewalk, wand out and apparently looking for something.

"There's that weird guy again."

"You can see him?" Severus asked quietly. "He's utilizing notice-me-not charms."

"Hunh?"

"Never mind, don't look at him," Severus grabbed Harry by the arm and turned him away. "Pretend you can't see him. I don't want him noticing us."

"Why? What's he looking for?"

"He senses the magic I used to heel your ankle," Severus deduced. "He probably senses various accidental magic you've performed over the years as well."

"Wizards can do that?"

"It takes a certain amount of innate strength and focus. Most never bother to learn." It was doubtful Quirrell would recognize the magic as coming from him or Harry. It had simply been too long to pick up more than a vague sense of the type of spell performed. Never the less, he'd feel better once they were behind the blood wards.

"Can you do that?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Magic binds to whatever it interacts with, where it normally fades or accumulates. A fresh spell can be traced back to the caster, but quickly begins to fade," Severus explained as he shepherd Harry towards the car. "Most spend their lives in areas infused with accumulated magic and pay it no mind. People seldom notice what they see every day."

"Can he tell you did it?"

"Perhaps, but it's doubtful. It's too faded to tell who did it, unless he's attuned to my magic."

"Attuned?"

"Familiar with my magic," Severus answered as he opened the car door and pushed Harry towards it. "Siblings, parents, close friends and lovers often become attuned to magical signatures."

Petunia glared at the mention of magic, then turned to her son. "How was practice, Sweetie?"

"Good," Dudley smirked. "The creep couldn't even kick the ball. He fell flat on his ugly face a bunch of times."

"At least he could keep up," Harry grumbled. "You're too fat to run."

Severus payed the conversation no mind, focusing his attention on Quirrell as the man walked towards the school. Suddenly, as if sensing his gaze, he stopped and turned towards the car.

"How dare you say such a thing, boy!" Petunia put the transmission into park so she could turn around to yell at Harry. "I've told you time and time again, not to torment Dudley!"

"Stevie wasn't wearing his glasses again, either."

"And YOU!" Petunia screeched as she turned towards Severus.

Severus ignored her as he watched Quirrell. He began walking towards the car, wand out.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you! I'm tempted to make you two walk home!"

That caught Snape's attention. "My apologies, ma'am," he pulled his glasses out of his pocket and put them on. "I took them off so they wouldn't get broken. Harry apologizes to Dudley as well." He kicked Harry in the shin, prompting him.

"Um yeah, sorry Dudders," Harry muttered, with a glance out the window, at the man stalking towards them. He sensed Severus's agitation and played along. "I've a bad headache. It's made me say things I don't mean."

"Humph, I don't buy it," Petunia nagged. "Say it like you mean it!"

"I'm sorry Dudley. I have no excuse for what I said. Will you forgive me?"

The fat boy smirked. "Clean my room and I'll forgive you."

"That sounds reasonable," Severus spoke up before Harry could tell the boy to stuff it. "Well clean your room."

"That's better," Petunia said as she put the car in drive, but didn't take off. She glared at Harry through the rearview mirror, suspicious at their sudden acquiescence. "One more peep out of you two, and you can forget about the next football practice!"

Severus ignored Petunia. Quirrell was getting closer, and the hair at the back of his neck stood. The timid man's body language was off. The way he stalked towards the car, wand ready, was somehow familiar. He'd seen that stance before, from an experienced dullest, but who? Quirrell was neither experienced nor right-handed. He gripped his own wand handle, ready to draw it.

"I'm sorry." Harry slapped a palm over his scar and closed his eyes. Sweat broke out on his forehead and he was pale. He didn't see Severus study him, his dark eyes indecipherable.

For whatever reason, Petunia chose interpret Harry's pain as remorse. She pulled the car out, merging into traffic. "As soon as we get home you're to start on Dudder's room. I don't want to see you all night."

"Of course, madam." Severus continued to watch Harry. The boy seemed to perk up, apparently feeling better with distance from Quirrell.

"Do we get dinner?" Harry asked, hopeful.

"Of course we do," Severus answered before the woman could speak up.

"Humph!"

Severus mentally reviewed the facts. There was 'dark activities' rumored in Albania by deatheaters. Quirrell went to Albania to investigate. Harry's curse scar is affected by Quirrell upon his return. Quirrell had changed. Therefore, Quirrell had somehow become involved with the Death Eaters while in Albania.

He felt like he had pieces to a puzzle and all he had to do was put them together. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was still missing several key pieces of information.

* * *

Dudley's room was disgusting. It smelled like rotten socks and half decomposed food. In all his years of a head of Slytherin house, Severus had never seen, or smelled, anything like it.

"Aunt Petunia hasn't made me clean it since you got here. It's been piling up."

Severus surveyed the mess, unsure where to start. He spotted several plates and bowls. "I now know where the missing cutlery has gotten to." It was getting difficult to find clean forks and spoons to set the table with.

"It's best to get the dirty laundry first," Harry advised as he picked up a pair of skid marked underpants and tossed it into a laundry basket. "Go through the trouser pockets. Don't let Dudley see you, sometimes there's money. And don't forget to shake it out before you toss it into the basket. Sometimes stuff falls out. Next get the dirty dishes from under the bed, desk, and the wardrobe. We gotta soak 'em before we put 'em in the dishwasher."

"And what is this," he asked, holding up a sticky cube of six colors.

"Rubik cube. It's a puzzle. Get all the colors together. If you want it, take it. Dudley won't miss it. He'll eventually peal the stickers off it and ruin it. Aunt Marge gets him a new one every year."

Severus tossed it out the door and across the hall into their room. It'd help pass the time.

"Sometimes it's hard to pull spoons and forks from the carpet or clothes. They stick to things when they dry up," Harry commented as he pealed socks off of what appeared to once be a bowl of ice cream. "Let me know if any of the dishes stick to the floor."

Severus unearthed several cartons of eggs by the heater duct. "And pray tell, why is he fermenting chicken eggs?"

"Halloween is coming," Harry shrugged as if that explained everything.

Severus stared at Harry, prompting him to elaborate.

"He uses them on Halloween. Careful, they tend to explode when they get rotten. He's probably stashing toilet paper somewhere too."

Severus blinked. "What kind of ritual requires the sacrifice of decomposed bird embryos and used toilet paper?"

"No silly, it's not used!" Harry laughed. "It's for TP-ing the neighbor's trees and egging people. Haven't you ever been egged or TP-ed?"

"I can't say I have." He suspected it was the young Weasley twins who stole a toilet seats from the bathrooms near his classroom and fastened them to his largest cauldron with Ever Stick glue. But to his knowledge, they had never weaponized toilet paper or eggs. His Slytherins would never dare.

"He'll climb up on the roof and throw the eggs at the trick or treaters. After, he'll string the toilet paper in the trees at the park and neighborhood."

"And where are you in all of this?"

"Home, handing out candy while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon get drunk at the neighbor's block party."

And sure enough, there was a garbage bag of half-used rolls of toilet paper stuffed under the bed.

"And I suppose these are the eggs Petunia accused the grocery bagboy of stealing several weeks ago?"

"Probably."

Severus chucked the egg cartons into the toilet paper bag, along with various bits of food wrappers, empty pop cans, and broken toys.

"Dudley's gonna get mad that you threw out his eggs," Harry warned. "He's been saving this stuff up for a while."

"He wanted his room cleaned, did he not?"

"I guess." Harry smirked. Dudley would be irritated.


	7. More Than a Dream

**Chapter 6**

More Than a Dream

* * *

Harry was just finishing his homework when Severus dropped a pendant on his workbook. He picked it up and examined it. It looked like a rounded purple teardrop, a little bigger than the top half of his thumb. A hole was drilled at the top, with a metal loop strung through it.

"What's this?"

"Amethyst transfigured into a pendant, then spelled."

"It's pretty. Does it do anything?"

"It's more than ornamental," Severus said evasively, noticing the confusion on Harry's face. "What it does, it's doing it now."

"I like it." Harry held it up to the desk lamp. The light shined through it, casting a purple glow. Tiny veins and inclusions could be seen within.

"It's infused with various magics." The well wish stone was made some years ago. They were rare and expensive artifacts, being difficult and time consuming to make. Furthermore, how to make one was knowledge guarded within academic and pureblood circles. "Your task is to figure out who's magical signature is in the stone, how many spells are sealed within, and to decipher the purpose behind the magic therein, if not the precise spells."

"You made it, didn't you? You and someone else, a friend."

"Perhaps," Severus wasn't sure if the boy guessed or felt it in the magic. In any case, his magical signature wasn't the only one sealed within the stone. "Perhaps not."

"How do I figure that out?"

"You clear your mind and focus," Severus pulled a leather cord out of his pocket, one holding various charms of its own. He stung the pendant on it and gave it back to the boy. "Once you clear your mind and focus on the stone you'll be able to feel the magic."

"You keep telling me to clear my mind, but I don't know how."

"You asked me to teach you. It's the first step in several branches of defensive magic, including wandless casting. Put the charm on, and don't take it off, not even in the shower."

Harry put it on, then squeezed his eyes shut as he attempted to feel the magic. His face turned red as he scrunched it up.

"Don't give yourself a stroke."

"What does magic feel like?"

"You already know, whether you consciously perceive it or not. This whole house is infused with it. You simply don't notice it," Severus lectured. "The magic in the stone is different and concentrated. It should be easier for you to perceive."

"Will it fade? Like the magic you did at school?"

"No. It's preserved."

"How?"

"I doubt you'd understand the transmutational theory behind permanently fixing magic to objects."

* * *

Harry gripped his new pendant as he lay awake in bed. Beside him the other boy snored. He'd never met anyone who snored quite like that, not even Uncle Vernon. And Uncle Vernon was loud.

How was he to clear his mind? Every time he tried, a new thought or feeling popped into his mind. Sometimes, the thoughts popped in and out so fast that he forgot that he was trying to think of nothing at all.

Harry focused on the deep, rhythmic snorts. He matched his breathing to it, mimicking the other boy's. In. Out. In. Out. He focused on his feelings for the older boy while breathing.

He did this for several moments and was about to give up when he felt it. It was faint, but there was a feeling that was distinctly 'Stevie.' It was hard to describe, but if pressed to, Harry would say it felt warm and safe.

Harry smiled, and just as quickly, the feeling was gone. His concentration was broken as thoughts whirled in his mind once again.

"Stevie, wake up!" Harry shook the boy's shoulder. "Stevie!"

"What?" Quicker than Harry thought possible, he snorted awake. Sitting up, the boy grasped his stick from under his pillow and surveyed the room with wide eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I did it!"

"Did what?"

"I emptied my mind!"

With an irritated sigh, the other boy dropped back to his pillow. "You don't say."

"I felt it!" Harry said, holding up the pendant. "It feels like you! You made it!"

Severus returned his wand to its hiding place and shut his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yep. It feels like you."

"Someone else made it. I didn't transfigure the pendant."

"But it feels like you." Harry's excitement deflated. "I know it does."

"Yes, you felt my magic in the stone, but that's only part of it. Someone else's magic is preserved within. It's fainter, overshadowed by mine, but it's there if you look."

"Who's?"

"Figure it out," the older boy mumbled, already half asleep. "Just do it quietly and let me sleep."

Harry huffed. He tried to clear his mind, but his thoughts were whirling too fast, fueled by disappointment and a little hurt that the other boy wasn't proud of him.

It wasn't long before his bedmate was snoring again. Harry used the breathing to still his thoughts again. It took several long moments, but the feeling of 'Stevie' appeared in the stone again. It was still faint, but clearer than before. He grasped onto the feeling, and let it sooth him to sleep.

He was almost asleep when his forehead began to ache. It was a burning sensation he was becoming familiar with.

Still half asleep, Harry stumbled out of bed and went to the window. Groggily, he looked out. At first he didn't see anything, but a shadow coalesced from the darkness, forming a cloaked figure. He couldn't see the person's face, but knew who it was. It was the strange man in the old-fashioned cloak.

Silently, they regarded each other for several minutes. Finally, the figure disappeared with a pop. At the sound the other boy snorted awake briefly, looked around the room, then rolled over and went back to sleep.

Harry, convinced he was dreaming crawled back into bed. It was impossible for people to disappear into thin air after all. The ache in his forehead slowly faded as he fell asleep.

* * *

"Wake up!"

The snake was speaking to him. It was asking him for a mouse, and then complained about being cold. It was almost time for the 'long cold sleep.' He promised it as many mice as it could eat, and promised that he'd make it warmer. He knew just the spell that would work.

"Harry!"

The snake wanted brown mice, none of those silly white ones with red eyes. Yuck. But the pink ones, the little ones without the fur, were the best. A warm egg would be nice too. Yum. A hot, sunny, rock would be heaven.

"Potter, wake up!"

He told the snake that it needed to watch the house, and the humans inside. He'd say some magic words that'd keep the snake warm. Even during the autumn rain, the snake would stay warm and won't have to take the long cold sleep. And if the snake managed to bite one of the boys, there'd be even more mice!

There was a pain on his cheek. Did someone slap him? Come to think of it, his forehead hurt too.

He reminded the snake to save his venom, to use it all on the boy, the short one with dark hair. He wouldn't need it to kill mice anyway. He'd make sure he wouldn't need it for anything else.

The snake then said it was scared of the kneazles. He couldn't stay out in the open, he had to hide or risk being eaten.

Harry's eyes snapped open, to see Severus hovering over him. His hand was up, apparently ready to slap him again.

"Dreaming?"

"Yeah, I was talking to a snake."

"You were talking to a snake," Severus repeated.

"Yes."

Severus studied Harry, his dark eyes bore into the other boy. His expression oddly serious. "What did you say to it?"

"I promised to feed it brown mice if it watched our house. I also told it to I'd keep it warm and protect it from the, um, sneazells?"

Severus blinked. "Kneazles?"

"Yeah, those," Harry said as he threw the pink bedsheets and floral comforter aside and sat up. "The snake was scared of being eaten by the kneazles."

Harry moved to get up.

"Wait. Tell me more about the dream."

"I have to go pee."

"Hold on," Severus seemed concerned. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder, to keep him in place. "Where were you in the dream?"

"Why does it matter? It's just a dumb dream, about a dumb snake."

"Just tell me, Potter!"

"I don't know," Harry scooted back a bit at Severus's tone and body language. He batted away Severus's arm. It was times like these that reminded Harry that the other boy wasn't really his brother, but more like a grown-up. "I think it was on Wisteria Walk, between to Mister Jones's and Missis Figg's house."

"Did you see anyone?"

"No. Now can I go?"

"In a moment. How long have you been able to talk to snakes?"

"Talk to snakes? I can't talk to snakes. No one can." Harry used his smaller size and agility to roll aside, duck, and dart towards the bathroom. Severus followed. "It was just a dream."

"Did your scar hurt?"

"A bit, now let me go pee!" Harry pushed past Severus, towards the bathroom. Severus tried to follow, but the door slammed in his face.

For several moments Severus stared at the closed door. He wasn't sure what was going on, but knew Harry's dream wasn't ordinary. He'd heard the Dark Lord speak to snakes on several occasions and knew parseltongue when he heard it. The boy was speaking it in his sleep.

"You two better be getting ready for school!" Petunia's voice carried up the stairs from the kitchen. If you're not down for breakfast, you can do without!"

* * *

"Which one of you little pukes threw away my eggs and toilet paper?" Dudley growled. His face was red, from equal parts physical excursion of walking from school to the sidewalk and anger. "I was saving those!"

"Your ire is misplaced," Severus responded absently as he surveyed the area for potential threats. There were several people milling about, supposedly parents waiting for children, but no Quirrell. "We cleaned your room as requested."

"You know that you're not supposed to touch my things!"

"We were tasked with clearing the refuse from your room. We completed that task."

"My stuff isn't yours to take!" Dudley complained. "I'm gonna tell mum!"

Severus shrugged and turned away from the boy, continuing his scan. Dudley blinked in confusion. The bully wasn't used to his threats being casually dismissed. He wasn't sure how to proceeded.

"And after you get in trouble with mum, I'm gonna rearrange your face!"

"Leave Stevie alone!"

Dudley smirked, finally evoking a response from someone. "I'll get the both of you back!"

"Ignore him Harry. He poses no true threat to you," Severus said as he spotted Petunia's car. "He's not worth your time."

"But—"

"But nothing," Severus said as he pulled Harry away from Dudley and towards the car. "Ignore him."

"You'll think 'nothing' when I'm done with the two of you!"

"Well?" Petunia asked a Severus climbed into the car after school. "How did those tests with the specialist go, boy?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "It was muggle nonsense."

"I don't want any cheek from you! Now, how did those tests go?"

The tests he took were nothing like any he had taken before. They were various puzzles, most of which were timed by a proctor. Others tested his ability to memorize lists of numbers or words, or to find patterns in seemingly random sequences.

He would never admit this to anyone in the magical world, but he found the tests fascinating. Logic and analytics just wasn't something valued in the magical community. His orderly and logical mind worked in a way that put him at a disadvantage in a world that operated on creativity, intuition, and emotion. His discovery of muggle science was one of the few bright spots in his situation.

"The proctor said the specialist will call you after he analyzes the results."

"Humph!" Petunia said as she pulled out into traffic. "It's Friday. I want you two to amuse yourselves at the library. I'll drop you off and give you the bus passes and some money for supper. There's a McDonald's by the bus stop."

"When's our curfew?" Harry asked, excited at the prospect of a 'night out on the town,' even if it was just the public library.

"I don't care. Just don't come home too soon. We'll be gone late, probably past ten."

"Why do those two get to stay outside late with no curfew?" Dudley complained. "And those two have been mucking about in my room again!"

"We're taking you to the movies, remember sweetie? You wanted to see that movie, and you don't want to go to a boring old library," Petunia soothed her son before focusing her anger at the other two boys. "I've told you to stay out of my son's room!"

"You made us clean his room," Harry protested. "It's not my fault he had rotten eggs hidden under his bed!"

"What have I told you about fibbing?"

"Not to do it," Harry dejectedly crossed his arms. "Which bus do we catch? When's the last pickup?"

"I'm sure you can figure it out."

"Can we have the spare house key?"

"No. You two can just wait at the park," Petunia snapped irritably. "Maybe that'll keep you from mucking about in Dudders room."

"What if it's raining outside?"

"The toolshed is unlocked."

"Your care for you nephew's welfare is touching," Severus remarked sarcastically.

Petunia ignored Severus's quip as she pulled into the library parking lot. She parked, then handed Harry twenty pounds and two bus passes. "If I hear from the neighbors that you two have been running amuck through the neighborhood there'll be hell to pay. Now get out."

Without waiting to see if the two ten year old boys made it safely into the building, Petunia sped off.

Harry turned towards the building, but Severus grabbed his wrist and stopped him. "Is there a menagerie nearby?"

"Hunh? A what?"

Severus sighed. "A pet store or zoo."

"There's Petco. It's in the same retail park as the bookstore."

"How far away is it?"

"Maybe a fifteen minute walk," Harry pointed north. "That way."

"We shall then walk."

"Wait! Don't you want to go to the library?"

"Yes. I want to go to the menagerie even more."

"But Aunt Petunia won't let us get a pet."

"I've no wish for a pet."

Severus walked towards the crosswalk. He studied the signal for a moment. "How does this muggle contraption work?"

"Push the button. No, not that one, the one in the direction we want to go."

"Why isn't it working?" Severus felt a bit agitated, with all of the cars whizzing by at full speed. He pressed the button over and over to no effect.

"It takes a moment. Wait."

A stray muggle eyed them, watching the two boys. Severus gave him the finger and told him to 'mind his own fucking business.'

"Stevie!"

* * *

"Talk to them."

"What?" Harry asked. "It's impossible to talk to snakes. I told you that this morning."

Harry eyed the baby North American Corn Snakes in the glass aquarium. There were twelve of them, all pretty and multi colored. Most of them sunned themselves under a UV heat lamp.

"Just do it."

He looked at Severus. "What do I say to them?"

"I don't know. Try 'hello'."

 _"_ _Um, hello?"_

Twelve snake heads popped up and turned towards Harry. They then started complaining. They only ate crickets, which was bland. The heat lamp wasn't warm enough, or it was too hot. They wanted a dish of warm water to swim in, with yummy fish to eat. They wanted more hiding places. Most of all, they wanted out of the glass box. It was so BORING!

"Well, what are they saying?"

 _"_ _They want out. They're bored."_ Harry said in wonderment. _"Can all wizards talk to snakes?"_

 _"_ _I want out, and how am I supposed to know who you hairless monsters talk to?"_ one snake said. _"Now let me out! I smell pink mice!"_

"In English, Potter." Severus furrowed his brows as he studied the boy.

 _"_ _They're bored."_

The snakes agreed. _"Yes we are!"_ one snake said. Another said, _"get me a guppy!"_

"I still can't understand you. You're not speaking English. Try looking at me when you speak."

"I said that they're bored."

"Bored?" Snakes were capable of getting bored? He pulled Harry away from the snakes and towards the doors.

"And they're sick of eating crickets every day," Harry explained as stopped to look at a display of budgies. "The grey snake wanted a guppy."

Severus thought a moment. "It sounds like English to you?"

"I didn't know wizards could talk to snakes." Harry said. "Can't you do it?"

"No, most can't." Severus answered, not sure how much he should tell the boy. Again he ushered him towards the door. "It's a misunderstood talent, associated with the dark arts. I wouldn't tell anybody about it if I were you."

"You mean it's evil?"

"No, but public perception perceives it as such." Severus steered Harry to the sidewalk outside.

"Does this have anything to do with the dream I had this morning?"

"Yes." Severus thought for a moment before coming to a decision. "You were talking in your sleep, speaking parseltongue aloud. I'm trying to determine if the parseltongue was external or innate."

"Hunh?"

"I wanted to know if you posed the ability to speak to snakes, or were mimicking it in your dream."

"So I was born with it?"

"I suspect not. However, you own the skill in your own right."

"How would anyone speak snake language in dreams if they didn't know how?"

"There's several means. Magical transference or soul possession," Severus evasively explained. "Legilimency, or through one of several kinds of magical bonds or mental links. Bonds are rare and the least likely explanation."

All of those ways sounded scary to Harry, even though he didn't know what they were. They began walking back to the library. "I still don't understand why you'd think I'd be speaking snake language in my sleep if I didn't know how to do it."

"It's complicated."

"Try me."

"No. You're a dunderhead."

A thought occurred to Harry. It didn't make sense, but it felt right. "My dream had something to do with the weird guy, didn't it?"

"That's enough."

"But—"

"I said stop!" Severus snapped. "Quit asking."

Harry felt tears forming in his eyes. He turned away so the other boy wouldn't see. "You always treat me like I'm stupid."

"I treat you like a ten year old child."

"But we're the same age."

"Are we?"

Harry almost sad yes, of course they were, but intuition stopped him. "You know something that you're not telling me. You're keeping secrets."

"Yes. Pray you never learn them all." Severus stopped walking and turned around. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you remember what I told you my first night here?"

"That was months ago," Harry shook his head. The other boy was always saying things that didn't make much sense.

"Seven weeks and five days," Severus corrected. "I told you not to trust your perceptions. Things, people, aren't always what they seem. Myself included."

Harry wasn't sure what to make of that.

"Do you trust me?" Severus continued.

"Yes." Harry answered without hesitation. "Of course I do."

"But I'm keeping secrets. You've seen me lie about our kinship and my name to others."

"So? You told me Stevie Prince isn't your real name."

"So think about it. According to your perceptions you shouldn't trust me. I'm a liar. In fact, if it weren't counterproductive to my circumstances I'd encourage you not to trust me."

"But I do," Harry insisted. He still couldn't shake the feeling there was something important he needed to know, something about snakes and the strange man.

"I know, and I'm asking you to trust me in this," Severus said as he began walking again. "When I know something more than vague suspicions, I may tell you, or I may not. Until then, let me worry about it. Concentrate on your education."

"You're just as bad as a grown up, just as bad as a teacher."

"Imagine that."

* * *

Severus decided he hated the bus. It was dirty and crowded. It was filled with muggles who appeared to be of ill repute or questionable hygiene. But most of all, it lacked safety restraints incase the muggle driver, who was of questionable mental competence, decided to crash the big, rolling, muggle deathtrap.

Warily Severus studied the passing scenery through the bus window. It was dark, so he didn't see much more than headlights and streetlamps.

He felt it was reasonably safe for Harry to move about downtown Surry. However, this safety diminished as they approached Privet Drive and its surrounding neighborhood. The boy's home remained safest, but that safety ended at the property line. Outside, deatheaters and Quirrell lurked.

"There's our stop," Harry commented at the approaching lone bench under a streetlamp. It was next to the playground, occupied by a single vagabond under the slide.

"Does the bus not stop closer to your house?"

"It's three blocks away," Harry shrugged as the bus slowed to a stop. "It's a five minute walk. How much closer do you want it?"

"I don't like this. I'd assumed the bus would stop at the house." The night bus stopped at one's front door and he assumed the muggle bus was the same.

"At the house?" Harry laughed. "Busses only stop at bus stops, silly!"

Severus glared at Harry, but followed as the boy made his way to the door. Moments later, the two were standing outside alone, in the dark, under a lone streetlamp. Severus gripped his wand handle.

"Let's go to the park and play!"

"No."

"Why not? Aunt Petunia told us not to come home too soon."

"It's not safe," Severus eyed the muggle vagabond under the slide. He was watching them with an intensity Severus didn't like. He ushered the boy towards the darker jogging path that cut between the houses on Wisteria Walk and then Privet Drive. "Quickly."

"Isn't it better to stay on the sidewalk, where there's more light?" Harry asked.

"Not necessarily. When in a lit area surrounded by darkness, it's impossible to see into the shadows. In the shadows it's easier to see once your eyes adjust," Severus quietly explained. "Furthermore, most people stay in the light. We'll be able to see them, but they won't see us. It'll put us at an advantage."

"Why would we need an advantage?"

"Hush!" the older boy hissed. "That advantage only works if you shut up."

Harry sensed that Severus was agitated, probably over the weird guy. His dream about the snake had something to do with it too.

At a brisk pace, both boys made their way towards privet drive. They were almost there when Harry spotted something lumpy near the path. He stopped, and nudged it with his toe. "It's a dead cat. It looks like Mister Tibbles, one of Misses Figgs."

He'd seen it in the Dursley's back garden, been hissed and swatted at by it on several occasions. Severus inspected the tail. It was tufted, and the ears were unusually large. "It's a kneazle hybrid."

"Kneazles are real?"

Silently, Severus threw Harry a look that said volumes of insulting things before pulling him along the path.

Number four was dark and quiet, the Dursleys still out. Again, Severus had to use wandless magic to unlock the front door.

"Aunt Petunia said we're supposed to wait outside."

"Life's full of disappointments. She should be used to it by now. Get inside."


	8. Samhain

**Chapter Seven**

Samhain

* * *

"Out! The both of you two, out!" Vernon grumbled as he pulled open the sliding glass patio doors. "Don't come back in here until all of those leaves are raked up. Get rid of them."

"How?" Harry asked as he put the last of the breakfast dishes away. "Do you want them in the garbage can?"

"I doubt the leaves will fit into six cubic feet of space," Severus absently added from the table, reading the morning paper sans the sports section. He made no move towards the door.

"That's your problem, now isn't it you little egghead?" A nasty glint lit his face as he plucked the paper from Severus's hands. He rolled it up and shook it threateningly at the boys, as if he were going to use it to beat them. "Throw them over the fence into the Anderson's garden. Most of those leaves are from those damn maple trees of theirs."

"And don't forget to clear the dead plants and weeds from the flowerbeds, or you can forget about football this afternoon." Petunia added. "Prune the perennials back."

Severus glared, but didn't protest.

"Don't be asking for lunch 'til you're done," Petunia added. "And put those damn glasses on!"

* * *

Severus whistled at the sky. Harry watched as nothing happened.

Again, Severus whistled.

"Whacha doing?" Harrys asked, giving up on watching and pulling a rake out of the tool shed. He began raking the leaves towards the fence that separated the Dursley's property from the Anderson's.

"Sending a letter," the older boy answered. Again he whistled, louder than before. He waited, watching the sky. "It may take a bit. She may be hunting or sleeping at a distance. Wait for her."

"Wait for what?"

"A postal owl."

"Did you say owl? A postal owl?"

"Are you deaf as well as stupid?" Severus asked, frustrated. "A postal owl."

"Um, why don't you just mail your letter? The postal carrier comes every day. I think I can find a stamp. She'll take your letter."

"Stupid it is then. I don't need a muggle postman. I need an owl," Severus said as if words were the most normal thing in the world.

"Who are you sending a letter to? Why?"

"Mind your own business."

Harry shrugged, then rolled his eyes as he continued raking. He was used to the moody boy doing odd things with little to no explanation. "Can you work while waiting? I want to get this done so we can play football this afternoon."

"A morning of muggle labor, followed by an afternoon of muggle sports? Forgive my lack of enthusiasm," Severus grumbled sarcastically. He had better things to do with his time, namely research to complete. Never the less, he picked up some pruning shears and began cutting back the dormant perennials with a practiced efficiency.

After about fifteen minutes a big bird landed atop of a shrub. Fascinated, Harry watched as the other boy pulled out several folded sheets of notebook paper. He rolled it into a tube, then used a muggle twisty-tie to affix it to the bird's legs. A leather pouch was attached to the other leg, and the boy stuffed several small bronze coins in it. "To Headmaster Dumbledore, Hogwarts. No need to wait for a response."

"So that's a postal owl?" Harry asked as the bird took flight. "Are they like carrier pigeons?"

"Perhaps, though pigeons aren't receptive to magic, and are too difficult to train."

"Wouldn't it be easier to use the phone?"

"No."

Harry shrugged, then grabbed an armful of leaves and moved towards the fence.

"Stop! What do you think you're doing?"

"Uncle Vernon said to throw them back over the fence."

"Don't be an idiot!" Severus grumbled. "We don't need to draw their ire. Bag them up and put them at the curb like the rest of your neighbors have done."

They worked in silence for a while. Harry stuffed the leaves into garbage bags while the other boy cleaned out the flowerbeds.

"Hunh?" Harry looked up when they were nearly finished. "Did you say something?"

"No."

"I could have sworn I heard you say—" Harry froze, his face draining of color as he spotted movement by Stevie's foot.

Severus followed Harry's gaze, looking down in time to see a large adder lunge and bite him on the calf through his jeans. Moving quicker than he thought possible, he grabbed the snake and broke its neck. He dropped it, and it convulsed on the ground.

"Stevie!" Harry screamed, nearly in panic.

"Calm down." Pain flared in Severus's ankle, then traveled up his leg, throbbing and increasing in intensity. As a potions expert, he knew that wasp venom posed more danger than that of an adder. "It was just a vipera berus, a common adder. Painful, unpleasant, but hardly life threatening."

"But it was a snake, the same one from my dream. We have to get you to the hospital!"

"Nonsense. I'll take a potion in a bit." Severus took out his wand as he scanned the grass. He saw no other snakes. "Careful where you step and put your hands, there may be more. Finish bagging up those leaves."

Harry eyed the pile of leaves suspiciously, not wanting to stick his arms in it, less he was bitten as well.

"Oh for pity's sake!" Snape snapped. "Run the rake through the leaves before you pick them up if you're scared of finding another snake."

"What if I miss it?"

"You're a parselmouth, Potter," Severus limped to the last of the plant trimmings and stuffed them into the bag. "Call out to the snakes and command them not to bite."

"Hello?"

"No, that was English. Look at the dead one and try again."

 _"_ _Hello?"_ Harry waited for an answer. Hearing none, he tried again, louder. " _Hello?"_

"Well?"

"Nothing."

"It's late October. Most should be hibernating. Put those leaves in the bag. My leg is beginning to swell. I need to go inside soon."

"The long, cold, sleep," Harry remembered as he cleaned up the last of the leaf litter. "Should I toss in the dead snake?"

"No, don't touch it. Dead snakes may still bite." To illustrate his point, the body twitched. "I wish to study it."

"Study it?" Harry wrinkled his nose as he tied a garbage bag shut.

"Adders tend to be shy and rarely bite. It should be hibernating this time of year. A parselmouth enchanted it to stay warm and commanded it to come here and act against its nature. I want to know who. It'll keep for the next hour or so while I treat the bite."

"I'll take the leaves to the curb if you want to go inside."

Instead Severus grabbed a bag and followed Harry. "Go."

"What are you two doing inside so soon," Vernon grumbled from the recliner in front of the television. He was watching golf of all things. "Surely you're not done yet. Get back out there."

"Stevie got bitten by a snake."

The words didn't seem to register. "A what now?"

"A snake, an adder."

"What? A snake?" He craned his stubby neck to spy the boy limping towards the stairs. His eyes bugged as he finally comprehended Harry's words. He stood. "Show me."

"I'd prefer not to," Severus grumbled as he hobbled up several stair steps.

"I don't care what you want. I don't want that old man sniffing around my family if you die. Now show me!"

With a huffed sigh Severus pulled up the leg of his trousers to reveal the bite. It was grossly swollen and purpling.

"Cool! It's all gross and deformed!" Dudley exclaimed. "Is he going to die? If he does, can I have their room?"

"I don't know, son." Vernon grimaced as he looked at the wound again. "Err, well, you don't need to go to the hospital do you? Are those things deadly to your kind?"

"My kind?" Severus asked, incredulous. "No, adders normally aren't lethal to humans. Merely painful."

"Well fine then, it's settled. I'll call the exterminator. Until then stay out of the yard, all of you."

"That won't be necessary." Severus resumed his limping journey. "Most snakes are hibernating this time of year. I killed the one that bit me. I doubt there's more."

"I'll not have snakes hurting my son and wife! Harry, go fetch some ice for your brother. While in the kitchen, get me the phonebook."

* * *

"Your Uncle's concern for the welfare of two children under his care never ceases to amaze me," Severus sarcastically grumbled as Harry brought a bag of ice wrapped in a towel. Severus sat on the bed, rummaging through his backpack, his trouser leg rolled up. Finally, he selected a vial of pink potion.

"What's that?" Harry asked as he handed the older boy the ice.

"A nonspecific venom purgative," Severus absently taught as he dug out a jar of gooey paste.

"A purg-a-what?"

"A purgative. It'll remove venom from a victim's blood and tissue. The paste will help with the swelling, pain, and prevent infection."

Harry watched, fascinated as the swelling shrunk. The purple coloring remained though.

"Here, let me help you prop up your leg," Harry said as he grabbed a pillow. The other boy grimaced but didn't protest as Harry arranged the ice and pillow under his leg. "Do you think you'll be okay in time for the football game?"

"I'll not be playing today." The truth was he could if he wanted to but didn't feel like it. The bite would be mostly healed, if not a bit sore.

The disappointment was clear on Harry's face. "Oh. Will you watch me play then?"

"I think that can be arranged."

Harry brightened.

* * *

"Do you feel anything yet?"

"I feel inane chattering and your breath on my neck. Either hush or go back inside," Severus snapped irritably. "Back up!"

Harry scooted back from the snake and other boy to give him space. He watched, as he held his hands over the dead snake and closed his eyes for several long moments. Harry decided that it was incredibly boring to watch.

Severus concentrated, pushing aside all thoughts and emotion. He was a bit surprised at how much of his mind he had to close off. Without realizing it he was allowing his occlumency shields to slip around the boy. He'd promised Dumbledore that he'd reduce the use of his occlumency, but the way it naturally happened without him realizing it unnerved him. Lilly had always that effect on him, her presence causing him to lower his defenses, and he wasn't sure why Potter's son would do the same. He set the thought aside, resolved to revisit it later.

It was difficult without a wand, but possible to feel residual magic without one.

The magic on the snake was faded, but obviously from a warming and a notice-me-not spell. The caster's signature felt both foreign and familiar. It may have been from Quirrell, but he simply didn't know the man well enough to say for sure. Intuitively though, he suspected that it wasn't Quirrell's. It didn't feel like any of the Death Eaters he knew, Dumbledore's, and it definitely wasn't Harry's. There was a familiar quality to it though. He felt like he should know it, but couldn't put his finger on why.

"Well?" Harry asked.

"Inconclusive."

"What does that mean?"

"I have no conclusions."

"You two had better not be playing with that dead snake!" Vernon shouted from the patio door. "It's time to go. Get in the car! Now!"

Severus's leg was still sore, but much better. He no longer limped, and the swelling had faded, leaving an ugly looking bruise. That too would fade, given time.

"You're lucky that you're not playing. I was going to kick your butt on the field!" Dudley said. "I'm gonna kick Harry's butt too!"

"We're on the same team," Harry attempted to reason with the obtuse boy.

"So? You're going to regret throwing my eggs away!"

"You're the goalie," Harry argued logically. "You have to stay at the net."

"Give it up," Severus pushed Harry into the back seat. "I've met rocks more intelligent."

Dudley kicked Severus on the calf with his expensive new football boots, intending to hurt his bite wound. "Wrong leg nitwit," Severus remarked as he sat next to Harry.

"Are you ready for your big game sweetums?" Petunia asked before he could kick at the other leg.

"I'm ready to kick some butt!"

"That's my boy!" Vernon encouraged. "My football all-star!"

Harry rolled his eyes.

* * *

"Vernon Dursley I presume?" The coach said approached after the game. Most of the boys were busy cleaning up, gathering balls, water bottles, and general refuse. Dudley however, milled about with his friends, shouting insults and throwing dirt.

"What," Vernon rudely grunted. Severus looked up from his spot on the ground, pretending to read his book as he watched the interaction. The team had lost the game, and Dudley had failed to stop any of the opposing team's goals.

"That's a very talented boy you have there." The coach blinked, surprised at the rudeness. "I hope you don't mind, but I've taken the liberty of speaking to his teacher. I've heard that his test results from last month were impressive. You should be proud."

"I thought those results were supposed to be confidential," Severus sarcastically muttered from behind his book. The adults ignored him.

"I'm proud." Like magic, Vernon's demeanor changed. His chest puffed out a bit. "Well, he is gifted, takes after his mother I suspect."

"I think I know someone who's getting a special dinner tonight!" Next to him, Petunia demurely blushed at the flattery.

"Yes, well, I coach at one of the privet schools during the week." He handed Vernon a business card with his name and the name of one of the better privet schools in the area. "Technically, I'm not allowed to recruit for the football team. However, nothing prevents me from mentioning that I have some sway with the admissions board and athletic scholarship program."

"Well! Did you hear that darling?" Petunia gushed as she snatched the card from Vernon's hand.

"The boy's going to my alma mater," Vernon gushed with pride. "That won't be necessary."

"I must say I'm sorry to hear that. Harry's a natural athlete and-"

"Harry? Surely you don't mean Harry Potter?" Vernon sputtered as he pointed at the boy. "That skinny little runt?"

"My apologies, I thought we were talking about Harry," the man said, confused at the reaction. "I was told you were the boy's guardian?"

"We are," Petunia bit out. "There must be some mistake. You must mean Dudley."

"Well, he's certainly a spirited child," the coach smoothly sidestepped said as he looked towards the tubby boy. They watched as he dumped a handful of dirt down a another child's shirt. He lobbed a second clod at another child, but it missed. "Has he considered wrestling? Boxing perhaps?"

"Boxing?" Vernon's face lit up. "Now that's a man's sport!"

"Hello there, Stephen," The coach shifted his attention to Severus. He also handed a card to the boy. "I'm sorry to hear that you hurt your leg. I hope you'll play at the next game."

"It should be sufficiently healed by then," Severus cautiously replied as he took the card.

"I realize that you're not the most coordinated," the man said. "Although you've shown potential for track and field, I understand your true talents lie in academics. I can't promise anything, but my school would like to have you and your brother. I encourage the both of you to begin the scholarship application process as soon as possible. Call me if you need help obtaining and filling out the forms or a reference."

"Thank you," Severus said blandly.

"That won't be necessary," Petunia handed her card back to the coach. "Both boys will be attending Stonewall High."

"I have a different school in mind for next year," Severus said to the coach, returning to his reading. "But thanks anyway."

"You will not be attending that damn school!" Petunia screeched and snatched the card back from the coach. "A scholarship, you say? For those two? What about Dudley?"

"Like I said earlier, I cannot guarantee anything. However, the odds are in Stevie and Harry's favor," the coach carefully said. "Perhaps admission arrangements could be made for Dudley if his plans fall through."

"How's the school library?" Severus slyly smirked, hiding it behind a false veneer of interest. He made a show of looking at his card. He'd rather lick the owlry floor than spend the next seven years at a muggle school.

"Our school is one of the best in England."

"You've given us something to consider," Petunia cajoled, scheming herself. She must had realized that her ploy to have Severus secure Dudley a place at a top university would work better if he went to a prestigious school. Of course an adult muggle wasn't up to the level of the dullest of his youngest Slytherins.

"Nonsense Pet," Vernon said. "We've discussed this. Dudley is going to Smeltings, and that's that."

"I know. It never hurts to have a backup plan, dear."

"Rubbish. Dudley's a shoe in." All three adults turned to see the boy administering a wedgie to Harry. Harry trotted towards the relative safety of the coach and his brother with an unsteady gait.

"Although, there's no harm in looking," Vernon conceded.

"Get your hand out of there!" Petunia snapped as Harry stuck his arm down his trousers to free his wayward underpants.

"Stevie, did you see me make those goals?" Harry said as he squirmed.

"I saw," Severus said absently as he turned a page. "You kicked a ball into a net. Congratulations."

Harry blinked, not sure if he should take that as sarcasm or a compliment.

"Good job, Harry," the coach encouraged when no other praise was forthcoming. "I was just telling your Aunt and Uncle that you're a natural athlete."

"Really?" Harry beamed.

"Yes, well, perhaps some new shin guards and cleats are in order to celebrate a good job?" Petunia reluctantly said. "Perhaps your own ball to practice with at the park?"

"Can Stevie get shin guards too?"

"Well, I suppose."

"That's not necessary," Severus protested from behind his book.

"Nonsense!"

* * *

"You're reading that old big book again," Harry complained as his television show broke for a commercial. "Are you ever gonna tell me what you're doing?"

"October thirty-first." Severus looked up from his spot on the bed. Notebooks and loose paper filled with his tiny scrawl surrounded him. Some of them had charts and diagrams. "I'll tell you then."

"Why not now?"

"I'm still working through some of the runic values needed for the ritual."

"Ritual?" Harry asked, suddenly more curious about the dusty old book. "You're planning a magical ritual for Halloween?"

"Yes."

"Can I do the ritual with you?"

"Yes. As the lone Potter heir I'll need some of your blood."

"Blood?" Harry asked, now hesitant about the ritual. "Is this some kind of evil satanic ritual?"

"If muggle mythology is to be believed, then yes." Severus looked up, amused at Harry's reaction. "The very nature of magic is generally considered evil by most Abrahamic religious sects."

"I don't feel evil."

"That's because you're not, nitwit."

"You're not evil either."

"That's debatable," Severus countered dryly. "Rituals, old magics, or blood magics are obscure branches of the Dark Arts. Categorizing such magic as good or evil is a product of naïve muggle superstitions and religious nonsense."

"Why Halloween?"

"Samhain is the darkest of the cross-quarter days. Hence the phrase 'Dark Arts'," Severus replied absently, returning to his book. "The Dark Arts work best at specific times of the year."

"I don't think Aunt Petunia will let us do a magical Halloween ritual, even if it's not evil."

"Let me worry about her. Hush. If I can't figure this out by Samhain we'll have to wait 'til Beltane and it won't work as well."

Harry returned his attention to the television for a while, until movement outside the window caught his attention. "Stevie! There's a big bird at the window!"

"Don't gape at it like a dunderhead. Let it in. I'm expecting it."

"Will it bite me?"

"There's one way to find out, isn't there?"

Harry eyed the owl nervously. It was a lot bigger than the barn owl from yesterday, standing over two feet tall. Its beak looked sharp enough to bite off his fingers, and grasped in its talons was a package wrapped in brown paper. Impatiently, it pecked at the screen. He watched as it easily sliced a hole in it with its beak.

Harry opened the window and the bird invited itself in, squeezing through the hole torn in the screen. As bold as you please, the owl dropped its package and settled down next to Severus, making itself at home on the bed. It began preening his hair.

"Do you know that bird? He looks like someone's pet."

"We've met," Severus evasively said as he gave the bird a friendly scratch. It was his personal owl, but left it at Hogwarts's owlery. Great grey owls weren't native to England, but commonly used by British wizards for their size. Therefore, the risk of someone recognizing him through the owl was minimal. However, the bird would draw unwanted attention in suburban Surrey from the muggles. "Go home, Pepper."

"Pepper?"

Severus glared at Harry, but turned his attention back to the bird. "Home! Now! Shoo!" He pointed at the window. Reluctantly, the big bird waddled across the bed, upsetting notes with its tail feathers and snagging the frilly pink comforter with its talons as it went.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you, you stupid bird?" Severus grumbled. As if responding, the bird took flight towards the window, further scattering the papers. It sat on the windowsill for a moment. "Go home."

"He wants to stay," Harry remarked as the bird made its way through the screen. "Pepper looks sad."

"Nonsense," Severus said, gathering and arranging his notes. "It's a bird. Did it leave?"

"No, he's sitting on the gutter. He's grooming his feathers." Harry looked out the window. "So what's in the package?"

Severus glared, but tossed it to the boy to open.

Harry smiled, as if opening a Christmas package. Inside was a letter and several objects, "two rings, a dagger, some keys, and a letter," Harry announced.

"Put the ring with the red stone on, left pinky," Severus absently instructed as he shuffled some notes. "It should resize to fit."

Harry eyed the big, bulky, heavy gold rings. They looked old and slightly worn, but expensive. One was more ornate than the other, having a ruby. There was no way either would fit him. Never the less, he put it on his pinky finger. It glowed for a second and then shrunk to fit his child-sized finger. It heated and buzzed for a moment, making his finger feel warm and tingly. "Whoa!"

"It's the Potter heir signet ring. It identifies you as the Potter heir in magical pureblood circles. Do not try to take it off."

Harry wasn't sure what 'pureblood' meant, but understood 'Potter heir.' "Did it belong to my Dad?"

"Yes, though one belonged to his father's older brother. As far as I know, neither wore them. They both were reputed to thumb their nose at wizarding traditions."

"It won't come off!" The boy gave his ring an experimental tug. It would turn on his finger, but wouldn't slide past his knuckle.

"Good."

"You tricked me into putting it on!" Harry accused. He tugged harder at his finger. "And now it won't come off!"

"Yes, I tricked you with my austere words," Severus sarcastically quipped as he arranged the last of his papers. "Had your father been alive, he would have given it to you on your seventeenth birthday. You may have chosen not to wear it and it would have made no difference. However, as he's dead, the ring has identified you as Head of House and bonded to you as such."

"So it's supposed to not come off?"

"Correct."

"Is it possible to take it off?"

"It's a traditional signet ring. Should you wed, it'll come off and you'll either place it on your ring finger or take your spouse's signet ring should you wed into a more prestigious heirship."

"Oh." Harry picked up the dagger. He noticed that it was old and ornate like the rings. "This knife has the same fancy design as the rings stamped into the handle."

"it's a ceremonial athame." Severus resumed his study.

Harry inspected the keys. Most looked like old fashioned skeleton keys, but one was bigger than the rest. It had the same design as the dagger and rings stamped into the top. It buzzed warmly in his hand, much like the ring did on his finger. There was also an ordinary brass key that looked like it belonged to an ordinary modern lock.

He picked up the letter. It was written on strange yellowed paper, and in green ink. It was sealed with green wax, with a design stamped in it. The cursive script was both fancy and old fashioned looking. He could barely decipher it, but read it aloud:

 _Dear Stephen,_

 _I'm happy to hear that you and Harry are doing well. I'm also glad to hear you are looking forward to attending Hogwarts next year. Since you expressed interest in pursuing muggle studies, I should inform you that the previous Muggle Studies Master is currently on sabbatical outside of Britton, and currently unreachable by post. As far as I know, he is expected to return next summer, perhaps as the Defense Master._

 _Enclosed are the Potter familial rings, vault keys, and athame as requested. I'm not sure what door the brass key unlocks, but all keys unlock portals to somewhere, do they not? Use it well._

 _Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,_

 _Order of Merlin, first class, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot_

 _P.S. I like lemon sherbets. Do you?_

"That old fool," Severus grumbled irritably, catching sight of the key in question. He'd spelled it long ago to fit the shape of most muggle keyholes. The headmaster no doubt added his own spells to it. "First Pepper, and then the house key. Why doesn't he just put an ad in the Daily Prophet?"

"Is this stuff for the Halloween magic ritual thingy?"

"Yes. Give me the brass key," Severus said. "Put the other items on the shelf in the wardrobe next to my knapsack, the letter too. Then hush, let me study. Go watch television or something."

Harry looked out the window as he walked to the wardrobe. Pepper was now on the fence that divided the Dursleys' property from the Andersons'. It sat there, head tucked under a wing, apparently taking a nap. Mister Anderson was outside, looking at the unusually large bird.

* * *

Again, Harry tried to clear his mind as his brother instructed. He still didn't know exactly how he was supposed to do it, but focused on his bedmate's soft snores. Again he matched his breathing to the other boy's and gripped the pendant. It took a long moment, but eventually felt the warm feeling from the pendant. He recognized it as being similar to what came from the rings and key, but different and more subtle. It was a feeling that was uniquely 'Stevie'. It also felt like 'home', and for some reason, reminded him of the color green.

"Hey Stevie," Harry whispered.

The other boy's snore stuttered, but he didn't wake.

"Stevie!"

"Wha," the boy slurred, snorting awake. He reached under his pillow to grip the wooden stick he kept there. "What is it?"

"The pendant feels like the ring did, but different."

"Let me sleep." Severus sighed irritably and then rolled over.

Harry was a little disappointed that the other boy didn't share in the wonder of his epiphany, but closed his eyes and focused on the feeling again. It came easier this time, now that he knew what to look for and how to do it. Without realizing it, he drifted to sleep and began to dream.

 _He walked up the sidewalk, eyeing the cookie cutter middleclass suburban houses with distain. They all looked the same, and there were hundreds of them. Number two Privet Drive wasn't any different, looking just like its next door neighbor, number four._

 _"_ _Alohomora," he wandlessly incanted and the door's deadbolt clicked._

 _The interior was dark. In the dim light he could make out framed photographs and the smiling people within. He sneered at the muggle photographs, the way the images were still, as if frozen in time. Muggles were a stupid and primitive lot._

 _They were obviously well-to-do but not rich, he decided as he eyed the modest furniture. They blended into the area, as average muggles. They would suit his needs nicely, better than the snake._

 _Not bothering to silence his footfalls, he made his way up the stairs towards the bedrooms. The first one contained a sleeping toddler. The second was empty, but held an empty crib, presumably decorated for an infant. The next room held a sleeping couple, the woman heavy with child. He flipped the light switch, and waited._

 _The woman roused first, sat up and screamed. He held up his hand, "immobulus."_

 _She fell sideways off the bed. Her head struck the end table on her way down. He laughed at the undignified pose she landed in, her legs still on the bed and blood beginning to pool by her head. She looked invitingly beautiful and the body he occupied was young and virile. Perhaps later…._

 _The male muggle attempted to lunge after her, to protect his wife, but didn't get far. "Immobulus."_

 _He fell to the bed, helpless to do anything but blink up at him._

 _"_ _Hello." He approached the bed to stare into the muggle's eyes. He slipped into his mind. "That's a beautiful wife you have there. Is she eight months along? I see I was close, eight month and two weeks. A boy. How old is the toddler? She's two years and three months. What a beautiful young family you have. It'd be a shame if anything were to happen to them."_

 _He laughed again as panic registered in his eyes. "Do as I say and they shall live."_

 _He felt another's presence. Someone besides the muggles was there, watching. He reached out to the presence…._

Harry bolted upright in bed, the scar on his forehead aflame.

"What is it?" Severus asked.

"Just a weird dream." Harry's gaze lowered to the wand the other boy held. He laid back down. "Immobulus and alohomora."

"What did you say?"

"One opens the doors, the other makes you go still," Harry muttered, already half asleep, the dream mostly forgotten.

Severus shook Harry's shoulder until the boy woke again. "Where did you hear about immobulus?"

"Hunh? Immobul-what?"

"Immobulus, Potter! Where did you hear that word?"

Harry sleepily blinked up at the older boy. "Are you okay?"

"Tell me about your dream."

"Dream?"

"Yes!"

Harry thought about it for a moment. The details were becoming fuzzy. "I opened a locked door to a house. There was a family inside. I made the woman fall off the bed and hit her head. There was a man, too. I think I told him something, but I can't remember what. I remember looking into his eyes and knowing he was scared for the woman."

"What else?"

"That's all." Harry thought for a moment. "Nothing else. I can't remember."

Severus looked into Harry's eyes.

"Stop!" Harry said looking away. "You're doing what I did in the dream, looking at my memories."

"My apologies." Severus blinked. How in the hell had the boy known that? "May I look at you dream? I need to see it."

"Okay." It was Harry's turn to blink in surprise. He didn't know why he accused the other boy of reading his mind. That was impossible, right? But somehow he knew he did the same thing in his dream. "You can read my mind if you have to. I trust you."

"Thank you."

Harry felt the friendly presence in his mind. It was warm, not dissimilar to the way the pendant felt, but buzzed stronger. He giggled. "It tickles."

"Hush!"

Various memories floated past, quickly. Finally the older boy found what he was looking for. The memory was faded and foggy, lacking detail. One thing was clear though: it happened next door.

"Do you think that lady is okay?"

"She'll be fine."

Somehow, Harry knew he was lying, he didn't know. "Should we call an ambulance for her?"

"No. I said she'd be fine! Nothing a quick healing spell can't fix." Idly, he wondered if the magic was being masked. Surely wanded spells this close to Harry's residence would be picked up by somebody, wouldn't they? If those spells had been cast windlessly, then the caster was remarkably strong and of pronounced mental discipline. He knew of only a handful of people strong and skilled enough to pull that off.

"It was just dream, wasn't it? Like talking to the snake? I didn't really do those things, right?" Harry asked, interrupting his musings.

"You were here all night," he sidestepped the question. When in Harry's mind, the 'dream' felt more like a memory, a partially blocked memory. "Go back to sleep. You've school tomorrow."

"But—"

"You two! Get to sleep!" The door banged and Vernon's angry voice floated through. "If I have to tell you again, there'll be hell to pay! Now shut up!"

* * *

The past several weeks until Halloween seemed to drag by for Harry, as time does when one waits for something. Petunia decorated the house and baked fancy cookies for the neighbors. Vernon polished his grill and stocked up on cheap beer in preparation for the neighborhood block party. Dudley horded stolen toilet paper rolls and replenished his stash of eggs.

Normally Harry didn't get to participate, as his job was to hand out candy to the trick or treaters. But this year Petunia bought him a cheap costume from the thrift store. Sure, it wasn't hand sewn by Petunia like Dudley's ninja costume was, but it implied he was allowed to participate this year. On top of that, he was going to see a real magical ritual later that night!

Severus refused to wear his plastic costume, and seemed to be baffled by the concept of 'trick or treating.' He called it 'commercialized muggle nonsense' and further described it as 'undignified begging'.

"It speaks volumes of muggle culture that they'd send their obese children to beg for sweets from strangers in the dead of night while their parents get drunk and stuff their gullets," Severus grumpily snarked.

"It's not always like this," Harry insisted as he pulled his plastic smock and mask on. He had to speak up over the sound of Petunia's blender. She was making a round of margaritas for the neighbors. "A couple years ago they rented a projector showed scary movies at the park."

"This goes against my better judgment. I'd feel better if we stayed inside until it's time for the ritual," Severus commented. This time of year was always bad for him, but he felt more nervous than usual. He knew that somewhere out there a deatheater was causing trouble in the neighborhood. "You're to stay away from the Anderson's, and go to the houses at the end of the cul de sac, where the main street party is."

"But that's only nine houses!"

"Count yourself fortunate I'm allowing this at all."

"You're not the boss of me!"

Severus glared and stifled a sigh. The boy was generally agreeable to his wishes, but his stubborn nature popped up on occasion. "We will go to those nine houses, obtain dinner at the party, and then it will be time to prepare for the ceremony."

"I guess that's not too bad," Harry said, always disgustingly optimistic. "They have popcorn balls and caramel apples, and uncle Vernon is grilling hot dogs."

"Lovely." Severus wrinkled his nose. He hated fatty and salty muggle food. Hot dogs topped the list.

* * *

"Look at how much I got!" Harry enthused at his small bag of candy as he munched on a miniature candy bar. It wasn't nearly as much as most of the other children, but the boy was excited just the same.

Severus snatched up the wrapper and eyed the nutritional information and ingredients. He didn't recognize most of them. "High fructose corn syrup? How do they extract syrup from corn?"

Harry shrugged and popped another piece of candy into his mouth.

"I believe the cornstarch is broken down into sugar with enzymes, young man." One of the Dursley's neighbors remarked, his speech slightly slurred. He'd seen the man walking his dog, but didn't know his name. He shoved a cold can of Coke into his hands. "Here, have some more fructose!"

"Um, thanks." Severus said, irritated that a drunken muggle knew something he didn't. He refused didn't open the can, though. He had no intention of drinking it. Harry however, quaffed down his own can.

"I've heard about you, you're that Potter boy, eh?"

"The smart one or the football star?" Another neighbor asked, equally drunk.

"He doesn't like sports," Harry supplied. "He's the smart one. And his name is Stevie Prince."

"You're the egghead then!" A third neighbor clapped him on the back, laughing. "Good for you! I can't get my kid to do his math homework. He'll be flipping burgers soon, just like his brother."

"Small and wiry," the second neighbor eyed Harry. "You look like you're a natural. I hope Dursley here is feeding you up!"

"Here," a tipsy Vernon shoved a paper plate into Harry's hands, then the other boy's. He gave them a small shove towards the patio furniture set up on the sidewalks. "Go eat. If you see Dudley, tell him to come eat."

"I think he's at the park with Piers, egging things."

"That son of yours working up an appetite?"

Severus didn't hear Vernon's response as he sat at the cheap plastic table. Though Petunia's shrill voice could be heard. "Have you seen the Anderson's lately?"

"No. I know Jessica went to the hospital several weeks ago," one of the neighbors gossiped. "I'm not sure what happened, but she hit her head and went into labor."

"I heard John had some kind of mental breakdown, and Jessica took the children to her mother's."

"I saw John at the park the other day. He looked horrible. He had a glassy look in his eyes, and wouldn't say hello."

"I smell trouble in paradise," Petunia gleefully cackled. "I never did trust him, a young godless liberal from London. I knew he was a troublemaker the instant they moved in."

"Now Petunia—"

"No!" Petunia interrupted. "That hypocritical toe rag accused me and Vernon of overworking Harry, when he's beating up on his own wife! He even had the audacity to call the police on us!"

"We don't know that's what happened with Jessica, just as he didn't know what happened with Harry."

"Humph!" Petunia said. "Well, the leaves are piling up in their yard and they haven't bothered to do anything about it. It's starting to look trashy over there."

"Should we tell someone what really happened?" Harry whispered.

"No, don't be absurd!"

"Why not?" Harry shoved the last of his hot dog into his mouth. "Why's that absurd?"

"Let me worry about that." Severus winced at the unappetizing sight. "Don't speak with your mouth full."

"You always say that. I don't understand why. "

"Of course you don't."

Harry waited for the other boy to elaborate, and then kept waiting. "So? What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, ask me no more questions."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Severus cut him off.

"Enough."

"But—"

"I said enough! You're to forget about the Andersons, and you will stay away from that house."

Harry glared. Something was up, and he wanted to know what. Once again, the other boy was keeping secrets from him. It had something to do with those strange dreams: the house next door; the creepy guy; and talking to snakes. This time, he was determined to find out what was going on, without Stevie's help.

"Okay," Harry said innocently, with a nonchalant shrug. He made a show of casually taking a drink of Coke from that absurd aluminum can.

Severus's eyes narrowed suspiciously, sensing something, but not sure what to make of it. The stubborn boy never gave up that easily, and his demeanor reminded him of his first year snakes and their fledging attempts at scheming. Thankfully, the boy had no Slytherin attributes in him. He was intelligent, but not calculating. He was impulsive, a slave to his emotion, making him incapable of ambitious scheming. A Slytherin Harry Potter was nothing short of absurd.


	9. A Ritual

Chapter 8

A Ritual

* * *

"Potter, wake up."

Harry felt someone poking him on the shoulder. He ignored it.

"Harry, wake up. It's time to leave."

The poke turned into a shake, and Harry blinked. He'd fallen asleep while watching the telly in their room, waiting for the time to pass.

"Is it midnight yet?" Excitement at the prospect of a magical Halloween ritual pushing aside his sleepiness.

"No, eleven-thirty," Severus said impatiently. "It'll take time to set up. We need to leave now."

"'Kay," Harry rubbed his eyes and yawned. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the bedroom door.

"No. Come here." Severs held his school book bag in one hand, and the brass key in the other. "Hold on to the key. It'll feel disorientating, but don't let go until I tell you to."

"Why?"

"Just do it," Severus snapped, his temper shorter than usual from exhaustion. Using the portkey was a risk that didn't sit well with him. Should anyone care to look they'd be able to tell a portkey was activated in the general area. The magical evidence would fade within the hour, but if one knew where to look they'd be able to deduce the portkey's destination and tie it back to him.

Harry bit back his questions and took a hold of the key.

"Lemon sherbet."

It felt odd, like someone was pulling Harry backwards by his bellybutton. He felt the rush of movement and saw streetlights rushing past in a dizzying blur. Finally, after several long moments Harry's feet slammed to the ground and he tumbled into an overgrown clump of grass. Despite his best efforts, he lost grip of the key as he fell.

He was in a small back yard of some sort. It was surrounded on three sides by a tall fence and houses on the fourth. It was an old-fashioned brick row house. The attached neighbors seemed to stretch on for an unknown ways to the left and right. The entire complex seemed empty and neglected, and more than a bit creepy.

"Quickly," The older boy held out his hand.

"Where are we?" Harry asked as he took his hand and was pulled to his feet. "How did we get here?"

"Cokeworth. A portkey, magic."

"As in Coke cola?" Harry asked, following the boy to the door. The grass was up to his waist.

"No you simpleton, as in coal," Severus answered as he put the key into the deadbolt. It glowed and the locks clicked. "The name is derived from the fact that it's used in the production of iron and steel. This town was built to support several steel mills that has since closed. This neighborhood has been abandoned in part due to the resulting mercury contamination from the muggle pollution."

"Isn't mercury poisonous?"

"A neurotoxin, yes. Don't lick anything and you'll be fine," Severus grumbled as he pulled out his wand and tapped it on the door. The door glowed purple. "Put your hand on the door."

"What are you doing?" Harry did as instructed. He looked about, spooked, as the cawing cry of a nearby raven filled the night air.

"Keying you into the wards."

Harry had no idea what that meant, but the door glowed for a second, then faded away. He sensed now wasn't the right time to ask about wards. He resolved to ask the question another day.

"Get inside."

The interior was just as old-fashioned as the outside, but clean and in fairly good repair. Everything looked like it was from the sixties, but functional and well taken care of. The Formica countertops were orange, the stove and curtains a contrasting olive green. The asbestos tiles on the floor were a darker shade of orange, along with the padding on the chairs. The paneling on the walls was covered in ugly yellow and orange flowers.

"Hold on to my arm. Like with the portkey, don't let go."

Harry heard a pop, then felt himself squeeze into a tube. He couldn't breathe, but before he could panic, there was a second pop and he tumbled to the ground into a queasy heap. He was now outside, in an old graveyard. It had a different feel as Cokeworth, the air being clean and crisp.

"Where are we now?" Harry asked as he climbed to his feet. "That portkey thing felt different this time."

"That's because we apparated, it's differs from a portkey. We're in Godric's Hollow," Snape said. His mood seemed to have changed. Harry thought he looked solemn and thoughtful, almost sad. "This graveyard is where your parents are buried. Come."

Harry stood stationary for a moment. Of all things, he never expected to visit his parent's grave on this night, and didn't know how to feel about it. He knew they were dead, but in his childish way, had never gave much thought about where there were buried. After a moment, he followed after the other boy as he wound his way through the gravestones. He seemed to know where he was going, as if he had been here before several times. It was a short walk to the outskirts of the cemetery, where the stones were newer.

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death," Harry read aloud as he studied the grave. In his childishly naive way, he had always hoped that his parents were really alive, and that someday they'd come for him. That childish hope died in that instant. His eyes prickled a little, but no tears fell.

"1 Corinthians 15:26," Severus quoted. "The quest for eternal life is for the foolish, whether through religious nonsense or by magic."

Harry looked up to see that the other boy's face had shifted from sad to closed, void of emotion. His dark grey eyes were cold and hard, nearly black. The expressionless face reminded Harry of how the boy was when he first came to live with him. It was as if he turned off his emotions. He didn't like it, and for some reason it made him feel anxious and concerned. "Are you okay?"

Severus ignored the question as checked his occlumency shields. He pulled an old blanket out of his book bag. He spread it on the ground, directly on top of the grave. He also pulled out the athame, a book, an old goblet, a vial of potion, and the other signet ring. He then kneeled on the blanket. "Come here, Harry."

Harry studied Severus's oddly blank face, hesitating only a second before doing as asked. He sensed solemnness or gravity to the other boy's mood. It almost seemed sad. It dampened Harry's excitement.

"What we're about to do here you're not to tell anybody," Severus demanded as he kneeled on the blanket next to Harry. "I mean it."

"I understand. Muggles can't know about magic."

"It's more than muggles. You can't tell other wizards," the older boy said. "As far as the rest of the world is concerned we're godbrothers, through your mother and my father. They cannot know the truth. I'll be initiating a Vow of Secrecy after the ritual. Neither of us will be able to speak of this ritual, be forced to speak the truth, or erroneously reveal it to an outsider."

"Is that really necessary? Can't I just promise not to say anything?"

"No, you'll take the vow," he said as he poured the potion into the goblet. "You're an open book to the least skilled of Legilimens. The vow should hold up to all but the most skilled."

"You said that's like mind reading, right?"

"No, yes, maybe. It's of a sort. I'll teach you about it later," the other boy arranged the things on the blanket. "I've combined two separate rituals, a blood adoption and a magical signatory merger. As the head of House of Potter, you'll essentially be adopting me into the line and designate me as a lesser heir, emulating a godchild ritual. The other is a reworked ritual designed to allow squibs access to magical holdings and contracts. I believe it will temporarily disguise my magical signature."

"Okay," Harry replied. He only understood 'adoption.'

"Do you agree to this adoption?" Severus studied the boy, looking for any signs of hesitation. The boy was gullibly handing over half of his parent's name, properties, legacy, and fortune to a Deatheater in a disguise. Severus felt a chill at the thought that the Malfoys, or any other Death Eaters, could have done what he was doing now.

"Yes."

"I need you to state aloud that you give me permission to establish myself into the House of Potter, permanently."

"I want you to be a part of my family, forever."

"That will work. Then let us begin." Severus picked up his wand. "Hold your hand out, ring up. Do not speak until I ask you to. Hold your questions until after."

Severus picked up the book and began to read. Harry couldn't understand it, being what he thought was Latin. The tip of his wand began to glow white. He touched the tip to Harry's ring, and it glowed too.

"I need a few drops of blood," Severus said as he picked up the ritual knife. "Hold your hand over the goblet."

"Okay," Harry said as he braced himself for the pain. To his surprise, it didn't hurt at all. After several drops of blood dripped into the cup the wound healed on its own, leaving a small pink scar on his palm. Severus added his own blood.

"Do you, Harry James Potter, of the House of Potter, freely declare Stephen Prince nee Severus Tobias Snape as kin to the House of Potter, and as such, as having right of appellation?"

"Um, yes." The ring on Harry's finger buzzed with magic.

"Do you, Harry James Potter, of the House of Potter, freely declare Stephen Prince nee Severus Tobias Snape as having right of abode and obligations of the House of Potter?"

"Yes." The ring glowed brighter, and the buzzing grew.

"Do you, Harry James Potter, of the House of Potter, freely declare Stephen Prince nee Severus Tobias Snape as ancillary heir, with all legal, financial, ancestral, and familial rights and obligations therein?

"Yes." The ring continued to buzz.

Severus dropped his ring into the goblet and pulled a piece of notebook paper from the book. Again he read in that language. The ring inside began to glow.

"Do you, Harry James Potter, lend your magical signature to merge with the bearer of this ring, namely Stephen Prince nee Severus Tobias Snape?"

"Yes."

"Take a small sip."

Harry wrinkled his nose at the potion, but complied. The potion had their blood in it. Yuck.

Severus took a sip too. He then poured the rest of the goblet onto the ground, on the grave. He held his wand high and said more words in what sounded like Latin. After, he plunged the athame into ground above the graves. "So mote it be."

Harry and Severus's rings gave a final flash, then stilled. Severus put his ring on. For the first time, it came alive and resized to his finger. But unlike Harry's ring, this one could be easily taken off. "We are finished with the first part."

"So your real name is Severus Tobias Snape?"

"For now, until I change it back."

"Severus Snape. That's a weird name," Harry giggled as he helped his brother pick up. "No wonder you go by Stephen."

Severus's face was still expressionless as he looked at the boy. Truth be told, he hated his muggle name and everything it represented. Despite this, one day, he hoped to abandon this new persona and resume his old life, name and all.

"I'm sorry for making fun of your name," Harry apologized, misinterpreting the look. His gaze settled forlornly on the gravestone, where his parents lay.

"Never mind my name. Things aren't often what they seem," Severus folded the blanket and stuffed it back into his book bag. "Should you ever hear my name again, remember that I've your best interests in mind. In fact, I promise, you'll hear my name again at Hogwarts."

"Okay," Harry answered, sensing he was nearing the end of Severus's patience. He decided not to push further, but would ask again later.

Once everything was packed away, Severus pulled out his wand again. "We've the matter of an Oath of Secrecy to discuss."

"What is it?"

"It simply binds you from revealing my secrets, intentionally or accidently. You will be unable to speak of this night to anyone but me. If someone other than me is listing, you will find yourself unable to speak of it. Only truth serum or a skilled Legilimens may draw it out."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"You gullible little fool! Never casually agree to take an oath or vow. If anyone but me asks you to, you're to say no. Do you know what a contract is?"

"Yes."

"An oath, pledge, swear, or vow is essentially a magically binding contract, meaning magic will enforce it. Unbreakable vows kill if broken. Swearing on one's magic may render one a squib. Poorly worded oaths can turn one into a gibbering mess."

"I won't make any oaths, I promise."

Severus sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "A promise is a pledge. Never break a promise less it's badly worded and magic tries to enforce it."

"Oh." Harry pulled the magical knife out of the ground and handed it Severus. "So, we're officially brothers now?"

"Perhaps in a legal sense we're adopted or godbrothers."

"Why does it matter if it's legal?"

"Lineage and House alliance is important in the magical world." Severus wiped the dirt, dew, and potion from the athame. "I modified an obscure adoption ritual used to mask the lineage of illegitimate or squib children. It, in addition to the signatory merger, will fool the more commonly used blood and lineage tests into giving a false result."

"That's not what I meant. I meant, why me? Why does it matter if you picked me to be my adopted brother? Why not someone else?"

"I didn't pick you." Severus paused, considering how much to tell the boy. He had no intention to keep his past secret, but it was best if the child didn't know everything yet. "Headmaster Dumbledore felt that you should have someone to help protect and to teach you. He suggested blood adoption to cement my place within the Potter household, allowing me to share in the wards and blood protections surrounding you and your family."

"Is he the one who sent the keys?" Harry blinked, not sure what to make of that. "In any case, I'm happy to have a brother."

"I believe the correct verbiage to describe our relation to be 'godbrothers' in the magical world." Severus paused, waiting for Harry to ask about the blood protections his mother left behind. Apparently, that would be a question for another day, as the boy was still focused on the adoption and the old man. "Hold out your hand. I want to get the oath done so we can get out of here. You have school tomorrow."

* * *

Severus used the portkey to travel back to his house. Again he used the magical key to unlock the back door.

"Who's house is this?"

"Mine." The strength of his occlumency shields was making him tired and crabby. He may have retained his knowledge and strength of magic, but his body and mind was that of a child's. Occlumency was harder, and he wanted nothing more to go to sleep. "I inherited it from my parents."

"You own a whole house?" Harry asked, awed.

"Look around you, Potter. The house is worthless. The neighborhood was built atop an abandoned coal ash and slag dump. The ground is contaminated with a century's worth of fly ash."

"Can't magic fix it?"

"No. My mother remediated what she could of the property and some of the neighborhood years ago. The back garden and park are reasonably safe. The river remains polluted, though. The pipes have lead in them so they require periodic charms." Severus opened the door and pushed Harry inside. "The house cannot be sold. Most of the neighbors have abandoned their homes years ago. Those who remain have nowhere else to go."

He led Harry through the dark house to the living room. In the dim light, Harry could see lots of bookcases. Most were missing books, half empty. One wall held a strange fireplace. It was tall and skinny, oddly big enough to hold a person or two.

Harry reached foe a light switch and flipped it. Nothing.

"The bills are a bit behind."

"How long?"

"Fifteen years. _Incendio_ ," Severus then incanted and a fire started in the grate before Harry could ask.

"Neat-o!" Harry exclaimed, forgetting his question about the electrical bill.

"Yes, 'neat-o', indeed," Severus sarcastically grumbled. Unlike apparition into a muggle area, a short trip through the floo was unlikely to be noticed by the ministry. The risk of the floo was small, but there none the less. However, he didn't have much choice. They needed to get back. "Tonight you have traveled by portkey and apparition. Now we shall return by floo."

"Won't the fire burn us? Can't we just use that key thingy instead?"

"No, and no.

Severus threw in the powder, and stepped into the green flames, pulling a skeptical Harry behind him. "Arabella Figg's house."

The floo spat them out into Mrs. Figg's Livingroom. She had a small fireplace like the Dursleys, but somehow, it was a lot bigger than Harry remembered. As the two stepped out, it shrunk back to normal size.

Harry opened his mouth to ask, but Snape's hand clamped down on it, shutting him up. Silently, he held a finger to his lips.

Most of the kneazles she once had were nowhere to be seen, only one was curled up on the sofa, glairing up at the two interlopers. It's eyes were fixed on Severus, as it glared up at him. Silently, they made their way across the dark living room to the door. They let themselves out.

Severus used the magic key to relock the deadbolt.

"That's a neat key," Harry whispered, but not quite quietly enough. "How—"

"Shush!" Severus pulled Harry away from the house by the collar, less the noise wake someone up. "Stay in the shadows."

"Why does Mrs. Figg have a magical fireplace?" Harry whispered hesitantly, expecting his brother to hush him.

"My guess is so she can use it."

"Is she a wizard too?" Harry asked as they crossed the street towards the Dursley's.

"No. Magical women aren't wizards, they're witches. She's a squib." Severus paused at the sight of one of the neighbor's trees. Toilet paper streamed down it, hanging from branches. Their garbage can was knocked over and litter covered the sidewalk. "Her parents were a wizard and witch, but she has little magic."

"So she can use the floo without magic?"

"Apparently she has enough," Severus eyed another toilet paper strewn tree with distaste. "Your cousin has been busy."

Harry shrugged. "He does this every year."

The Dursley house was dark and still when Severus put his key into the lock. All but the kitchen light was off. Severus didn't need to warn Harry to be quiet as he silently opened the door. The two snuck in and made their way towards the stairs.

The light flicked on. "Where have you two been?"

"Out," Severus defiantly quipped. Petunia stood in the kitchen doorway, dressed in a robe and holding a glass of water. She looked angry, and a bit hung over.

"It's two am. I'll deal with you two tomorrow." She pointed up the stairs towards their bedroom. "Go to bed, and this time, stay there!"

* * *

"You feel different," Harry observed. The two lay in bed, trying to sleep. Or at least, Severus tried to sleep.

Severus rolled over, in a vain attempt to ignore the child next to him.

"I'm not sure I like it."

"You'll get used to it."

"It feels like you, but wrong somehow." He thought about it for a short moment, searching for the right word. "It feels blurry."

 _Blurry?_ Severus sighed as he pulled off the ring. "Is that better?"

"Yeah."

"Go to sleep," he said as put the ring back on. But the boy was already sound asleep.

* * *

Petunia glared at the two sleepy boys as they stumbled into the kitchen. Severus made his way to the coffee pot, only to see Petunia pour the remnants down the sink. "There will be no more coffee for the next two weeks."

Severus was too tired to glare properly. He simply grunted and glared.

She then focused her ire on Harry. "You're both grounded from football during that time."

Harry's eyes popped open at the injustice of the punishment. "But—"

"But nothing!"

Severus shrugged. He hated football and could do with a two week break.

"And you," she focused on Severus. "There'll be no trips to the library!"

"Okay." It was just as well. Severus didn't like the idea of Harry walking from the bus stop in the dark.

Not getting the response she was hoping for, she added with narrowed eyes, "and no books! You will bring down the books Vernon bought and they will be locked in the cupboard! I daresay you two will be too busy cleaning up the mess you two left strewn about the neighborhood and applying for scholarships to stick your noses in those damn books."

That caught Snape's ire, and Petunia smirked.

"But we didn't do it!" Harry protested. "It was Dudley.

"You're a nasty little liar! Just like your parents! Both of you!"

From the kitchen table Dudley coughed, in a feeble attempt to hide a laugh.

"It's unfair!" Harry protested. "We didn't do it."

"I saw them outside, Mummy!" Dudley smirked, lying. "I saw Stevie knock over Mrs. Thompson's garbage can."

"How could you? Your bedroom window faces the other way," Harry protested.

"I caught the both of you sneaking in. Say another word, and it'll be three weeks! I won't have you two running amuck through the neighborhood, vandalizing!"

Harry crossed his arms defiantly. He opened his mouth to protest, but Severus shut him up with a kick to the shin.

"And you!" She turned back to Severus. "I'm getting sick of looking at that scraggly hair of yours! You're getting a haircut after school and decent glasses. Both of you! I want you looking smart for that shrink from Cambridge. You're to look less like the little hoodlums you are for that coach!"

"Shouldn't we practice football so he doesn't know we're in trouble then?" Harry cajoled.

"Fine! But there'll be no Saturday football!" Petunia huffed. "Get in the car!"

Severus eyed Harry thoughtfully. The boy had effortlessly reduced his punishment, while avoiding the library, something he disliked. Somehow, the boy had maneuvered the situation so he came out with a net gain. He wouldn't be surprised if by Saturday Harry would be playing football too.

It was something a Slytherin would do, but that was absurd. The boy was as idealistically Gryffindor as they came.

* * *

Severus's neck was cold and he kept reaching up to tuck hair behind his ears that wasn't there.

For the past twenty years Severus had let his hair grow shoulder length and trimmed it himself. Long hair was a common in Wizarding pureblood circles. He kept it that way to mask his halfblood heritage from his peers, first at school in Slytherin, and then in Deatheater circles.

He noted that most male children outside of Deatheater circles sported short hair. In his persona as Harry's brother, he needed to blend in with that lot. If this meant subjecting himself to muggle haircuts, then so be it. He still refused to waste time or money on something as vapid as his wardrobe. As a point of principle, he would never stoop to something as inane as muggle fashion.

It had rained that morning, turning the toilet paper into a soggy mess. This made it nearly impossible to pull it free from the trees. This made the task Petunia set them to after they got back from their afterschool haircuts pointless if not impossible.

"Your hair looks good," Harry commented as he scooped up a handful of mushy toilet paper from the wet grass. "Aunt Petunia has never taken me to get a haircut before. She's always cut it herself, and it always looked bad. The last time she cut it, it grew back over night. Will that happen again tonight?"

"Do you want it to?"

"No." Harry had to shake the mushy mess off his hand. "I like this haircut."

"Then probably no. Don't worry about it."

"This is pointless," Harry announce after several silent moments.

"Agreed. Keep working."

"Wouldn't it be easier to wait until it dries before picking it up, or to wash it down with the garden hose?"

"Probably. Are any of those options available to us?"

"No," Harry sullenly answered. They were cleaning up in the neighborhood and could hardly drag the hose from the Dursley's front yard across the street or to the park. "We could always ask the neighbors if we could use their hose."

"No."

"Why not? I'm sure Mr. Anderson will let us use his garden hose," Harry hedged hopefully. He wanted to use this as an excuse to snoop around his yard for answers. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"No, and I've told you to stay away from that house, stay out of the yard. It'd also be best if you refrained from socializing with the other neighbors."

"You keep bossing me around about that, but why? What does it matter if I stay away from everyone?" Harry eyed the Anderson house. The grass was tall and leaves littered the yard. Toilet paper hung from their big maple trees in wet clumps and it was starting to look spooky. Severus refused to allow Harry into their yard to clean it up as they were tasked to. "I know it has something to do with that creepy guy and the weird dreams."

"Drop it!" Severus snapped. "I won't tell you again."

Again Harry looked at the house. He strengthened his resolve to find out what exactly was going on, and what happened to the Andersons. One thing he knew for sure, he'd have to do it without his brother's help.


	10. The House Next Door

Chapter 9

The House Next Door

"Rewrite your essay, boy!" Petunia shrieked as she tossed Harry's scholarship essay back at him. "Better yet, have your brother write it for you."

"I asked him to help me, but Stevie says that would be actually dishonest," Harry grumbled from his place at the kitchen table. After football practice Petunia forced them to sit at the table and fill out the applications the coach had given him. Dudley was allowed to go outside to play.

"Academically dishonest," Severus corrected absently as he finished his application. "Harry's essay is on par with what the admissions board would expect from both his age group and test scores. Any tampering would be obvious and run the risk of disqualifying him."

"Humph!" Petunia sputtered as she stomped across the kitchen. She pulled out a bowl of pealed potatoes for dinner's mashed potatoes from the fridge. "Your handwriting is atrocious. At least type it up! Both of you!"

"With what? You said I wasn't allowed to touch Dudley's computer."

"You're to stay away from it. How you do it is your problem to figure it out. Your school library has computers and typewriters, does it not?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged, lying, and looked to Severus. "Do you know?"

"I've never noticed as I've no use for such Muggle nonsenses," Severus absently replied as he reviewed his application, essay included.

"I've told you not to use that vile word!" Petunia shouted as she slammed the pot of potatoes and water onto the stove. "One more word out of you and the both of you can spend the night in your room, without dinner!"

"My apologies, madam," Severus dryly apologized. Starvation was a common threat, but since Severus's arrival, it was mostly empty. In any case, it was still best not to push the woman too far. "Where I'm from it's common verbiage, and I meant no offence."

"You're to do your best to pretend to be a normal, respectable, boys! I'll not have you screw up this scholarship with your abnormalities." Petunia pulled out the Shake 'n Bake chicken form the oven and slammed the casserole dish on the counter. "No freaky funny business!"

"Of course Aunt Petunia." Severus did his best to look up at Petunia innocently, attempting to appeal to her senses. "We want to look normal and go to a good school too."

Not fooled by the act, petunia glared.

* * *

Every night at nine Severus spent twenty minutes or so in the bathroom taking a shower, brushing his teeth, and getting ready for bed. If Harry was to investigate the Andersons, he'd have only that short period of time to act, and he needed a plan.

Harry looked out the window at the house. The overgrown yard could be seen, but most of the house was hidden from view. One window however, was nearly directly across from theirs. It was dark in the house, appearing as if no one lived there anymore. He needed to get inside that house, to find out what happened to the people that live there. If he did that, then maybe he could figure out what his adoptive brother wasn't telling him.

Since he began scheming about the Andersons he noticed that Severus never left his side like, a grumpy shadow. Was that normal behavior for a big brother? He suspected not, and usually welcomed the company. But if he was to investigate the house next door, he needed both a way in and a way to shake his hovering shadow.

His eyes fell to the strange brass key sitting atop the desk. Since Halloween the other boy had taken to wearing it around his neck on a string, only taking it off for showers. When he asked why, he simply stated it was for 'emergencies.'

Guy Fawks night was tomorrow and there'd be a small fireworks show in town. The neighborhood generally went all out for Halloween, but there'd be a small gathering at the park to watch the fireworks. It'd be the perfect time to borrow the key and sneak next door.

He pulled the small battery operated torch out of his back pocket. He nicked it from the kitchen so he could use it tomorrow. He flicked it on. Its light was weak as the batteries were old. It'd have to do, as he couldn't find fresh batteries—unless he wanted to take them out of the remote control.

The sound of the bathroom door opening startled him. Harry shoved the flashlight in the night stand drawer just as the bedroom door opened.

"It's your turn." Severus glanced up at Harry. His eyes narrowed, as if sensing he was up to something. He dropped his towel and dirty clothes into the hamper and grabbed the key. "I suggest you get in there before your cousin uses the toilet."

* * *

The school library did have several computers. Severus had seen Dudley use his, had seen several students on the computers in the library, but never used one himself, until now. If he had it his way, he'd never use one.

"First you put in the disk," Harry explained as he shoved one of the plastic rectangles he nicked from Dudley's room that morning into the slot. Severus copied him. "Then you wake up the computer with the mouse."

"A rodent?"

"No. This is called a mouse. You use it to move the pointer on the screen then click on the program you want, like this. We want Word." Harry demonstrated, wiggling the 'mouse' across a pad and something he was told was called 'windows 3.0' appeared on the monitor. "Click on the picture of the blue 'W' to open Word."

Severus pushed the button on the mouse once. Nothing happened. He tried the other button and a grey box popped up. "I believe it is malfunctioning."

"No. Click it twice," Harry laughed, the sound irritating Severus. He was one of the world's leading experts in potions and complex dark art rituals, but this grey box left him flummoxed. It was worse than that blasted VCR. He wasn't sure if it was worse than the loathed microwave oven, but it was close.

Severus clicked it, twice. Nothing happened.

"No, quicker, like this."

Frustrated, he loudly slapped his finger on the button until a small picture of an hourglass appeared. "What now?"

"Wait a moment. It's loading."

"Why is it so slow?"

"Slow? It just takes a minute for the program to load. These are faster computers than the ones in the computer lab."

Finally, a picture of a blank piece of paper appeared on the screen.

"Now type your essay. You'll want to click on save every once in a while, to back it up."

Severus had no idea what was meant by 'backup' or 'save', but started to slowly type. He looked over a Harry. The boy was quickly tapping away at the strange keyboard, barely looking at it as he worked. By the time he had typed a single sentence, Harry had several paragraphs completed.

"How do you remember where the letters are on this infernal muggle typewriter?"

"We had a computing class once a week last year," Harry said, as if the simple explanation was the most obvious thing in the world. Harry finished another paragraph and Severus completed his second sentence. "We get swimming classes later this year instead."

Severus suppressed a shudder but trudged on. He didn't know how to swim, and hated the water, hated it worse than football. "I punched the wrong key. How do I fix it?"

"Hit backspace or delete."

Severus studied the keyboard. It was quite by accident that he discovered how to move the cursor with the arrow keys. "DEL?"

"Yeah."

By the time the bell rung, Harry's essay was typed, printed, and he was deftly playing what appeared to be a muggle card game on the computer. Severus was only a third of the way done. "You'll have to finish tomorrow. Save it to the disk and close out of the program."

He emulated what he saw Harry do and clicked on the 'x' at the top of the page.

"No Wait!"

"What?"

"You didn't save it. You'll have to start over tomorrow."

He let out a string of vulgar Latten curse words. The librarian looked up from her stack of books, shocked. "Stephan Prince!"

* * *

"I received a call from your school today," Petunia glared at Severus. "The Headmistress said you used some vulgar language today. In Latten."

Severus shrugged. "It's not my fault the librarian is the only Muggle within a hundred mile radius fluent in Latten."

"And I've told you not to use that word!"

"What, Muggle?" Severus huffed. He refused to modify his language for her. He continued with his dinner.

"Fortunately for you, she seemed more impressed that you could speak Latten and suggested you take up linguistics."

"No, thank you. If I'm to study any muggle subject it'll be chemistry."

Petunia pressed her lips together in an angry bloodless line. Vernon's left eye twitched. Dudley ignored the conversation in favor of stuffing mashed potatoes down his gullet and watching the telly. Harry watched the conversation, appearing anxious for some reason.

"Why would he need to study Latin if he already knows it?" Harry asked, before turning to the other boy. "How many languages do you speak anyhow?"

"Four, seven if you include several related dialects."

"You're to stay home tonight. No fireworks for you," Petunia huffed.

"Can I still go?" Harry asked.

"No," Severus answered at the same time as Petunia said, "I don't care."

"Then I'm going," Harry defiantly stated, having no interest in going to the park. He had other plans for tonight.

"No you're not." Severus glared, sensing the boy was up to something.

"It's not up to you. Aunt Petunia said I could go, so I'm going, without you."

"No you're not." Severus suppressed an angry glair. He'd been waiting for this day. So far Harry had been malleable to his wishes, but knew eventually the headstrong Gryffindor would assert himself and rebel. He had to put an end to that. "Don't you have some homework left? Also, your scholarship application isn't quite finished."

"My essay is finished!" Harry glared at Severus. "I printed it out. The rest is filled out and ready to mail. You know that!"

"Then where is it?" Petunia asked. "And what about your math homework?"

"I left the essay at school. Most of my homework is done too, and it's not due until next Monday."

"You're a nasty little liar," Petunia declared. "You're to stay here to finish, both of you."

"I don't want the two of you running amuck through the neighborhood like you did on Halloween," Vernon added around a mouthful of food in his 'that's final' voice. "You embarrassed us with your antics. I'll not have a couple of little vandals under my roof."

"But that's not fair! I didn't-"

"Enough! You're to stay here with your brother," Petunia threw her napkin on her plate and stood up. "You two begin on these dishes. If you two want lunch tomorrow, I suggest you pack it from the leftovers. Make sure you pack one for Dudders, mind you."

"Yes Aunt Petunia." Harry glared at Severus, who raised a challenging eyebrow in response, but said nothing. "I'll stay here and work on my homework."

Severus studied Harry. He expected the boy to put up more of a fight and to complain about the unfairness of it all, in typical Gryffindor fashion. For a reason he couldn't define, he felt uneasy at Harry's easy acceptance. The boy was up to something.

* * *

Harry wasn't lying when he said that most of his homework was done and would be due until next week. However, he pulled it out and finished the last of it when the dishes were complete. Now he had nothing to do but watch the telly and wait. And wait, and then wait some more.

He was mad at Severus, and refused to talk to him. This didn't bother the older boy in the slightest, seeming to enjoy the silence. He settled for shooting the occasional glare at the older boy, who again didn't care about his ire. However, the silence in the room seemed to drag on Harry.

The Dursley's had left, and wouldn't be back for another hour or so. Severus would probably take his shower early, before they came back. This meant he'd have to be careful. The last thing he needed was to run into the Dursley's while out.

With his arms crossed, he glared at the television. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Severus stood and took off his key and placed it on the desk. He then pulled out a set of pajamas. He couldn't quite see the expression on his face, but noted that the other boy paused at the door and studied Harry suspiciously.

Harry resolutely didn't look up at him or out the window, where the pops and crackles of fireworks could be heard outside. Finally, after what seemed like forever, but was only a moment, he turned and left.

Harry waited until he heard the shower turn on, and then sprang into action. He pulled the flashlight out of the nightstand, and stuffed the key into his pocket. He then pulled on an old black hoodie, and pulled up the hood. He made a point of wearing his black trousers that day in an effort to blend into the shadows.

Quickly, he made his way downstairs and out the front door. He paused on the porch, looking for any sign of the Dursleys. He then looked up at his destination. The house windows were dark. The yard was still overgrown, with leaves littering the yard. The two front trees still had toilet paper clinging to it, visible now that most of the leaves were gone. In whole, it had an air of emptiness, as if the occupants were on vacation for the last several weeks.

Gathering his courage, Harry slinked up to the porch. He tried to peak through the front window, but the drapes were drawn. He put his ear to the door and listened, but heard nothing. He was sure the Andersons weren't inside, but it couldn't hurt to be cautious, could it?

Harry pulled the magic key from his pocket and slid it into the keyhole to unlock the deadbolt. He needn't had bothered, as the door was already unlocked, both the deadbolt and knob. He pulled out the key, and stuffed it back into his pocket.

Cautiously, he opened the door. A pile of mail lay on the floor in front of the mail slot. The unopened bills bolstered Harry's courage, supporting his belief that they were gone on Holliday. They probably just forgot to lock the door before they left.

The house was quiet, cold, and dark, and the air smelt stale. It was so dark inside that Harry left the front door open so light from the porch cold make its way in. He pulled out his flashlight and flicked it on. From what he could tell, the living room and kitchen looked undisturbed if a bit dusty.

There were some dishes in the sink. A ring of keys lay on the counter, with a woman's purse. A jacket was draped over a chair. Their child's toys were out. It wasn't messy, it just looked as if the Andersons left to go to the park and expected to be back in an hour or so, except they never came back.

Finding nothing else of interest, he made his way upstairs. The house was laid out just like the Dursleys. He looked in what would be his and his brother's bedroom. The Andersons had it set up to be a young child's room. The smallest room was set up to be a baby's nursery. Both rooms were empty, but the child's room had clothing and toys on the floor, again looking like the Andersons were expecting to return home any moment. He decided to look in the corner room, Dudley's room next.

Harry's flashlight died, but the streetlights from outside streamed in through both windows. The drapes were open in this room, unlike the rest of the house. Harry walked up to a window and peered out. It overlooked the Dursley's entire back yard, and into Dudley's bedroom. From the vantage point, he could partially see into his own bedroom. The light from the television flickered, but he couldn't see much more through the partially drawn drapes.

In the sky, in the direction of the park, colorful burst of light could be seen as the fireworks show wrapped up.

It was then when he felt it, a faint warmth on his chest. Harry pulled out the pendant Stevie had given him several months ago. The well wish stone Stevie called it, felt warm. The magic inside the teardrop shaped stone buzzed. It still felt like his brother's magic, but for the first time he felt something else buzzing within it. If he had to describe it, he'd say the magic felt like home.

Harry glanced about. The room looked to be set up as a home office. Papers were scattered on the desk, which held a computer. There were several bookcases along the walls. One bookcase had a weird shadow next to it, wedged between it, the wall, and the open bedroom door. He stepped closer, slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. A burst of red light from the fireworks briefly illuminated the shadow.

And Harry dropped the dead flashlight, startled.

It was Mister Anderson. He sat in a chair, eyes open and staring blankly towards the window.

"Hello?" Harry hesitantly asked, squinting in the dim light. "Mister Anderson? Are you okay?"

He only blinked, not aware of anything around him. His eyes didn't move, not focusing on anything. His face looked gaunt, and his short beard was scruffy and unkempt. He also smelled like he hadn't showered in weeks.

Harry backed up several steps, spooked. The hair on his arms stood and a cold sweat broke out on his upper lip. His forehead began to burn and ache.

Mister Anderson blinked again. This time his eyes moved, then focused on him.

"Hello Harry Potter." His voice was scratchy, as if he hadn't used it in weeks. "I've wanted to speak to you for some time now."

"Um…." Harry took another step back, until his back hit the wall.

The bedroom door slammed shut.

* * *

"Take your shower now," Clad in pajamas and toweling his hair Severus instructed as he made his way into the bedroom. "Get to it before your relatives get back."

Harry didn't answer, apparently still giving him the silent treatment. He tossed his towel into the hamper and looked up. Harry wasn't in the room. He sighed, a little irritated as he reached for his key. It was missing.

"Potter?" he raised his voice as he checked the floor and the space between the wall and desk, finding nothing. He specifically left it there in case the little brat needed the portkey for some reason. Was the little brat in the kitchen? If so, then why would he take the key? Did he go to the park to watch the fireworks after he told him not to? Or did he accidently activate the portkey? Quickly, he threw his clothes back on. Making sure his wand was sheathed in the hidden pocket sewn into in his shirtsleeve.

Severus quickly checked the other bedrooms before rushing downstairs. "Harry!"

The boy wasn't in the house. He'd kill the little brat when he found him—that is, if Death Eaters didn't get to him first.

* * *

Authors note:

As this is the first story I've ever written, I've learned a lot about the process. Primarily, I've learned to sketch out an outline before writing. As the plot develops, new ideas evolve and plot bunnies mutate.

Some may have noticed that a few details have changed since I first posted this story last year. The central plot remains untouched, but a couple of details have since evolved. There were simply too many plot holes in letting Severus remain Harry's biological brother, so I changed his status to a foster or 'godbrother.' The change closes a few plot holes, but doesn't change the premise of the plot. At the time I didn't think anyone was following the story closely enough to notice—I was wrong.

I've refrained from posting chapters until now, in case I needed to make more changes or add details. The story is now about 90,000 words long, and about 3/4 of the way complete. I know how the story ends, but I'm not sure how to transition to that ending. Furthermore, The time I have for writing is limited.

~R

P.S. Sorry for the cliffhanger! The next chapter is written, it just needs to be edited.


	11. The Boy Who Lived

Chapter 10

The Boy Who Lived

* * *

"Mister Anderson?"

The man laughed, humorlessly. "I'm no muggle."

"Then who are you?" The pain in his forehead increased. The boy edged closer to the door. Without realizing it, he gripped his pendant with one hand, and the key in his pocket with the other.

"Don't you know who I am? Hasn't Severus told you about me?"

"No. How do you know Stevie's real name?"arry Harr

"I know many things about Severus Snape, things that would give you nightmares, things that would make you want to stay as far away from him as possible."

"You're a liar." Harry reached for the doorknob. It was locked. His fear was morphing into panic. He pulled harder.

"That I am, but I'm not lying about this." The man that looked like Mister Anderson seemed amused. "Your 'dear brother' is no ten year old boy."

"No! You're a liar!" The words sounded hollow to Harry's ears. The older boy had told him several times the he wasn't what he seemed, not to trust, even him.

"Am I?" He smiled. "But I'm not here to talk about Severus. I'm here to learn about the Boy Who Lived."

"Who? That makes no sense."

"Oh dear, you don't know who the Boy Who Lived is, do you?"

Harry shook his head as he glanced about the sparse room, searching for anything to help him.

"You mean dear, honest, Severus hasn't told you about the Boy Who Lived?" The man gasped in fake surprise, mocking Harry's ignorance. "Your magic is strong, but not prodigiously so. So how did you do it?"

"I don't understand." Harry edged towards the window and glanced out. It was closed, and even if it was open there'd be no way for him to climb out. "Do what?"

Harry felt a pressure in his head, and his forehead felt like it'd split open any moment. Something dribbled down his forehead, tickling the bridge of his nose. Harry didn't know if it was sweat or blood. He didn't want to know.

"How did you survive?"

Memories flashed by in his mind's eye, too fast to follow. The whirl of moving images, thoughts, and feelings was dizzying. The pain increased and Harry felt sick. Flashes of light burst behind his eyes, and he felt hot. The strange man spoke, but Harry couldn't understand past the rushing sound in his ears. He gripped the key in his pocket and thought of his brother. He wished he was there with him now, helping him. Or at the very least, so he could say sorry for stealing his key. He felt his stomach turn inside out and his knees give out, and then knew no more as he passed out.

* * *

"Where do you think you're going?" Vernon demanded as he made his way up the walkway, towards the porch, his family following closely behind.

"Out," Severus said as he rushed down the porch steps.

"You're grounded," Petunia snapped. "Get back inside, boy!"

"Do I look like I care?" he pushed past the muggles towards the street, but was stopped, suddenly and painfully. Vernon's hand clamped on his arm, painfully yanking him towards him. Apparently, Vernon was quicker than his bulk suggested.

"Unhand me, muggle!" Severus's slight form was no match against Vernon bulk.

"I've told you not to use that filthy word, and Petunia told you to get back inside!" Vernon screamed as he yanked Severus in front of him. He then shook the boy violently by the right arm several times. He then shoved his face into Severus's and shouted, "do as we tell you!"

He didn't have time for this. Windlessly, he sent a stinging hex towards Vernon's fingers. The instant his arm was free he pulled his wand from his left sleeve.

Petunia let out a short scream, startled.

"Shut you hole Tuney," Severus said as he brandished his wand at her. His shoulder ached, badly sprained.

Her face scrunched in confusion as Severus's words and actions sparked an old memory. "Severus Snape?"

"You're confused madam," Severus told her as he backed towards the street. He'd have to deal with her after he found Harry.

"Get back here, you little shit!" Vernon shouted as he rubbed his still tingling hand. "If you leave, don't bother coming back!"

Severus ignored Vernon as he ran towards the Figg residence. He had more important things to worry about.

"I want you out of my home! Both of you!" Vernon shouted something else, but Severus didn't quite catch it as he jumped over the low shrubs in Mrs. Figg's front yard. He bounded up the porch steps and yanked the front door open. Thankfully, it was unlocked and the wards let him through. He rushed towards the parlor, where he knew the floo was.

Mrs. Figg was in a bathrobe, holding a mug of tea that smelled suspiciously like whisky. Startled, she dropped it. She watched, speechless as Severus rummaged through the knickknacks on the mantel until he found the floo powder. He grabbed a handful and threw it into the grate.

"Spinner's End!"

It seemed to take forever for the floo to spit him out at his destination. He'd mastered the skill of gracefully stepping out of the floo years ago, but this time, he tumbled out in a heap onto his hearthrug. His shoulder burst with pain as he landed on it, and nearly dropped his wand because of it.

"Potter?" He shouted as he picked himself up off the floor and looked around. The boy wasn't in his living room. He wasn't in the kitchen either. He threw open the kitchen door into the back garden. "Harry?"

The yard was dark, and the grass overgrown. If the boy was out there, he wouldn't be able to see him from the back porch. The grass was too tall, and the boy was too short.

He waded through the grass, towards the middle or the garden, where the portkey would have deposited the boy. "Potter?" he called again.

As he turned back towards the house he nearly tripped over the boy's foot. He almost missed the boy. The small figure was laying in the grass, hidden amongst the weeds, still. His face was covered in blood, but he couldn't tell where it was coming from in the dark.

"Harry," He shook the boy's shoulder, but he remained unconscious. Awkwardly, Severus waved his wand, held in his left hand, and muttered a diagnostic charm. The boy was unconscious, appeared concussed, but had no signs of physical injurie besides the blood. His forehead held traces of dark magic from his curse scar, but nothing to explain his state. The boy's magic was drained, but would be fine.

Relief swept through him, surprising him, as he hadn't realized how worried he was. "What did you do?"

* * *

His head hurt. The sunlight didn't help, seeming to make the pain behind his eyes worse. And he felt vaguely nauseous, not enough to throw up, but enough to be uncomfortable. All he wanted was for the light to go away so he could sleep. He tried to turn his head away from the light, but the movement made the pain worse.

He noticed that he wasn't in his bed. It was a soft surface, but lumpy. Something that felt like a spring dug into his butt, but he couldn't be bothered to muster the energy to move. Moving seemed like too much effort. It was better to just lay there, uncomfortable, hoping the light would go away.

"I know you're awake, Potter. You can quit pretending." The voice wasn't loud, but the sound aggravated his headache.

"Hunh?" Harry tried to say, but it sounded more like a moan, or a croak. His tongue felt dry and heavy.

"It's time to wake up."

"Hurts," he whispered. Harry tried to move away from the sound, only to experience a fresh burst of pain. Flashes of lights burst behind his closed eyes, and they watered. Tears leaked out of his closed eyes.

Time seemed to stop. His world consisted of nothing but pain. Blissfully, he fell back unconscious.

* * *

Harry woke up again. This time the light didn't hurt so much, as it was dim.

He opened his eyes to find himself laying on an old sofa and covered in a scratchy and musty smelling knit afghan. He was in a run-down sitting room, surrounded by bookshelves. A dingy window showed that it was dark outside. Across the room, Stevie sat in a worn recliner, arms crossed and glaring. A big book lay in his lap.

"Finally awake are you?"

"Awake?"

The other boy rolled his eyes.

"Can I have some water?"

"Help yourself," Severus gestured towards the coffee table, where a glass of water and his spectacles waited.

Harry debated for a moment, deciding if he wanted the water more than not moving. In the end, his thirst won out. He pulled himself upright with a bit of difficulty. A bit dizzy, he grabbed the glass and guzzled the water.

"I have to take a wiz," Harry announced as he set the glass down, then put on his glasses.

Silently, Severus pointed towards a door. It was only across the room, but it felt like a mile away to Harry. He unsteadily pulled himself to his feet, and slowly made his way to the loo.

"Would you care to explain what the hell happened?"

"I'm not sure," Harry answered as he trudged back to the sofa. Even though it was uncomfortable, he wanted nothing more than to curl up on it and go back to sleep.

"What's the last thing you remember then?"

Harry had to think. "I went next door, to the Anderson's house."

Silently Severus stared at him, his dark eyes boring into his soul. For some reason, Harry couldn't look away. His memories flash in his mind's eye as he spoke.

"Mister Anderson was there, but he wasn't acting normal. He was really creepy. He asked me about you, and said some mean things about you. He also knew your real name, and then he asked how I 'did it.' What did he mean by that? How did I do what?"

"Why did you go over there after I forbade you?" Severus ignored the questions, breaking the weird eye contact.

"Cuz I wanted to know why! You never tell me anything!" Harry felt tears well up in his eyes. "You're keeping secrets from me, secrets about me!"

"Yes, I am." Severus held up his key, a hard edge of anger Harry had never heard in his voice. "And you thought that by stealing my property and using it to break into your neighbor's house, and by doing what I asked you not to, I'd trust you enough to tell you my secrets?"

"No, it's not like that!" Harry wiped angry tears off his face with his sleeve. "You won't tell me anything. All you do is follow me around, bossing me, telling me what to do!"

"What were you hoping to learn then?"

"I don't know. I was looking for clues."

"Clues," Severus repeated in a tone of voice that suggested he thought Harry was as dumb as a box of rocks.

"Yeah," Harry whispered. His plan now seemed stupid as he spoke it aloud. What did he hope to learn?

"So, you spoke to Mister Anderson. He locked you in the room with him, and your head began to hurt. That's when you passed out?"

"Yeah, how did you know?" Harry snuffled, his nose dripping. For some reason he felt like he had broken some kind of fragile trust between them. That was worse than the anger.

"How did you activate the portkey?" again, ignoring Harry's question.

"I don't know," Harry said. "That man wasn't Mister Anderson. He looked like him, but he was the same man we saw at the park and at school. I know it. Who was he and what does he want with me?"

Severus stared at the boy for a moment, deciding what to tell him. He wasn't inclined to tell the brat that a dark wizard was rummaging through his head and he was lucky to escape with his life. "I believe you passed out because he used occlumency on you and encountered the protected memories of Halloween."

"There you go again! Keeping secrets!" Harry sensed there was more the other boy wasn't telling him, and he felt his frustration rise again. "Who was he and what does he want with me? And who's the Boy Who Lived?"

"You dare ask me to trust you with my secrets after what you pulled?" Severus bit out, shouting. The anger and stress he had stuffed behind his occlumency shields burst out. "Your selfish arrogance has no limits, does it? You sit there, sniveling, demanding me to cater to your curiosity, after what I gave up for you! I gave up my life to babysit you, and you repay me by stealing from me. You have no right to demand answers from me!"

Startled, Harry could only blink at Severus for several moments, with tears and confusion in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"You're sorry?" Severus sneered. "I doubt you're capable of that."

"But I am," Harry sniffled.

Severus studied Harry, and grimaced in disgust as he watched the boy wipe his snotty nose on his sleeve. "Use the tissue!" He pointed at the box sitting on the coffee table. He then pointed to a vial next to the empty glass. "And take that potion."

Harry eyed the vial with distaste. "What is it?"

"You're learning not to mindlessly take every potion handed to you," he observed approvingly. "It's called dreamless sleep."

Harry still didn't take the potion. It wasn't that he didn't trust the medicine, but he still didn't have the answers to his questions. "But I don't want to sleep. Who's the Boy Who Lived—"

"Take it."

Harry grimaced as he drank the potion, but for once didn't argue. The pain in his head melted away. As he lay back down on the sofa it occurred to him that Severus's angry outburst redirected the conversation away from his questions.

* * *

As expected, the potion put the boy to sleep and his living room fell quiet. Severus rubbed his temples.

The last question caught Severus by surprise. He'd never intended to keep that particular secret from the child. He had intended to tell the boy before they went to Hogwarts, and then tell the boy more as he aged. The boy was simply too young, too immature, and his mind too unprotected. He also lacked a base knowledge of magic and wizarding culture.

He would have to reconsider his plans. Perhaps he'd rearrange his timeline and begin teaching the boy occlumency. Harry had a thirst for knowledge, a drive to sleuth out secrets, something unusual to the typical Gryffindor psyche. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage somehow.

The train of thought led him to another point. He'd underestimated the boy. He never thought the little brat would have the initiative to steel his key and sneak off. The plan was clumsy, befitting a child his age, but well executed. It was similar to what some of his braver young Snakes might plot, but none of them would have the brashness to try.

The boy was obviously a Gryffindor. He was brash, obsessed with annoyingly abstract ideas of fairness, rebelliousness, and truth. But there was something else. The boy was sneaky and showed a talent for sleuthing. Not only could the boy plot, but he had the brashness to put his plans into action. The combination of the two traits had the potential for either disaster or greatness.

Merlin help him.

* * *

Harry woke again. This time, the sun streamed through the window across the living room and strait into his eyes. It didn't hurt anymore, and he felt well rested. His growling stomach and the smell of bacon motivated harry to get up off the couch. He walked towards the tiny kitchen, where he found the other boy eating his own breakfast while reading a strange newspaper.

Without looking up, Severus pointed at another plate. "Eat."

Harry sat at the worn Formica table. It was old and chipped in places, but clean and in better repair then its age would suggest.

Harry picked up a rasher of bacon and tasted it. It was hot, crispy, and perfectly cooked. As he ate, he looked up at the paper. The font was old-fashioned looking. More bizarrely, the pictures in the photographs were moving.

Harry watched as a black and white photo of a man waved at him.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"I'm not pleased with you."

"Oh." Suddenly, Harry's appetite left him. He pushed his plate aside.

"Eat." Severus nudged the plate back at Harry. "You haven't eaten in several days. Drink some water too."

"How long was I out?" Harry's appetite returned a little. If his adoptive brother wanted him to eat, then he couldn't hate him, right? Maybe he'd forgive him.

"You spent all day yesterday sleeping."

"I missed a whole day?" Harry shoveled some scrambled eggs into his mouth. "What about the Dursleys?"

Severus grimaced at the mouthful of food on display. "What about them?"

"Do they think we ran away?"

"Probably. As I left to find you, Vernon told us not to return to his house."

Harry nearly spat out his mouthful of eggs. "Were homeless?"

"Don't be ridicules." Severus said as he turned the page of his paper. "We'll return to the Dursleys in a day or two."

"But you just said they kicked us out."

"I've ways of persuading your uncle, and will do so as soon as I deem it safe to return."

"It's unsafe there?" Harry asked. "Why can't we go back now?"

Severus lowered the newspaper for the first time and looked at Harry. His expression looked as if he thought Harry was the dumbest thing he ever saw. "You just had a dark wizard, who possessed your neighbor, rummage through your brain. You want to go back?"

"Oh, when you put it that way."

"Oh indeed." Severus lifted the paper again. "When you're done, go take a shower. Put your clothes outside of the bathroom door and I'll cast a cleaning charm on them, and put them back into the bathroom. Don't lollygag. I'm expecting company in a bit."

"Who?"

"Albus Dumbledore."

"That old guy with the long beard, in the dress, I saw with you that first day? The one who sent you that package before Halloween?"

"Robes," Severus absently corrected. "Wizards wear robes, not dresses."

"The pictures in the paper are moving," Harry observed as he ate the last of his breakfast. "Do all magical newspapers do that? Isn't it distracting when you're trying to read?"

"Not as distracting as your nattering. Are you done yet?" Severus pointedly ignored the question. "If so, go take your shower. I trust you can make it to the bathroom without pilfering any more of my property or running off?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, a little hurt.

As Harry got up from the table, he was surprised to see his plate disappear. He bit back a question as he pushed the chair in. Hesitating only for a second, he turned and left for the bathroom.

* * *

Harry heard voices as soon as he stepped out of the shower. One of them was distinctly Severus's, and he sounded angry, but the second he didn't know. As quick as he could, he dressed and then pressed his ear to the door. However, the voices were too muffled to overhear, no matter how hard he tried to listen.

He opened the bathroom door to see Stevie and the old man dressed in bright purple robes sitting in the living room.

"Are you not listening to me old man?" Severus groused. "Quirrell is not on the continent. He's been snooping about the neighborhood, and he's tied to my former colleagues. Do you need an affidavit signed in Harry's blood?"

"Don't be melodramatic," the old man sighed. "I'll look into your suspicions. However, until I know his whereabouts there's little I can do."

"I just told you where he is! And what about those wards you had touted as infallible? Had you not considered how easily they can be bypassed?"

"The wards are the safest place for him."

"What about when he's at school? At the park? At the library? Shouldn't the wards extend further out from the property line? How will the wards keep him safe then?"

"We've discussed this. This is why you're here. And yes, they should extend further out from the boy's house. I'll see to it."

"I can only do so much. What happens the next time the boy takes a portkey and wanders off? What if the little brat decides to use Madam Figg's floo next?"

"Ah, there's the young man in question now. Hello Harry."

Harry felt his cheeks grow warm at having been caught eavesdropping.

"Hi," Harry cautiously said as he stepped into the room. He felt uncomfortable, picking up on an undercurrent of tension between the two.

"Come and sit down with us. I don't believe we've been formally introduced. My name is Albus."

"You may address him as Headmaster Dumbledore, professor Dumbledore, or sir," Severus sternly interjected.

"Now Stephan—"

"He knows my name, Headmaster," Severus interrupted.

"Now Severus, I'm not here on school business, but as a friend." He turned to Harry. "I hear you had an adventure the other day."

"Yes, er, sir." Harry wasn't sure if he should call him Albus or sir.

"I'd like to hear about it, if I may."

Harry looked towards his brother, who grumpily nodded, encouraging him to speak. "I went next door, to my neighbor's house, while Stevie was in the shower."

"Why did you go there?"

"I wanted to know what was going on. I saw Mister Anderson being hurt in a dream, the same kind of dream I had about the talking snake, before Stevie got bit."

Albus glanced at Severus, surprised, but let the matter drop. "How do you know it wasn't a normal dream?"

"Because my forehead, my scar, hurt," Harry reasoned.

"So you went next door. What did you find there?" Albus prodded.

Harry looked down at the scuffed wooden floor. A threadbare rug covered the portion below the sofa. "Mister Anderson was there, but he was acting weird, not like himself. He was sitting in a chair, staring out the window like he was hypnotized or something. After a bit he woke up and started to talk to me. He was really creepy."

"What did he say?"

"He asked about Stevie, but he knew his real name. He then asked me how I did something."

"Did what?"

"I don't know. He just asked me how I did it. My forehead hurt, like it did in those dreams, but worse. I then woke up here."

"Do you remember activating the portkey?"

"The magic key?" Harry asked thoughtfully, and Dumbledore nodded. "No. It was in my pocket. I remember holding it, whishing Stevie was there to help me."

"I believe Potter was legitimized," Severus interjected. "Specifically the protected memories from Samhain."

"Do you think he was successful?"

"Likely. The protections were never meant to stymy a trained Legilimens, but to detour the boy from blabbing my identity, either purposely or accidently."

"Hmm," the headmaster said thoughtfully, studying Harry. After several long moments he asked, "Harry, have you ever spoken to snakes?"

Harry nodded. He looked down at the floor. "Stevie told me not to tell anyone, that it was something dark wizards do."

"It's a misunderstood talent, one that many fear," Dumbledore said as he glanced up at Severus. "The talent itself isn't evil, nor does it make you bad. Though I do find the talent in you to be peculiar. It's usually a talent inherited through a particular magical family."

"I know what you're thinking old man. Don't be absurd," Severus irritably interjected. "Maybe the aptitude skipped a few generations, likely through squibs in Lilly's line. Her mother was orphaned at a young age in World War Two, and her father was illegitimate."

"Perhaps you're right Severus," Albus said, obviously unconvinced.

"Right about what? And what's illegitimate? What's a squib?" Harry perked up at this unknown bit of family history.

"Someone with magical parents, but with little magical talent themselves," Severus answered. "Your paternal grandfather didn't know who his father was, and your maternal grandmother didn't know her parents."

"Is that why Aunt Petunia never talks about them?" Aunt Petunia never spoke of his grandparents. He never considered it was because she didn't know much about them.

"Perhaps."

In the excitement of learning something new, Harry failed to consider how Severus knew this bit of information.

"I've begun teaching the boy the fundamentals of occlumency."

"So soon? Are you sure that's wise?" Albus asked. "He's young, his mind is still developing."

"All the better for him to learn. I wasn't much older when I began teaching myself."

"You know my thoughts on your overuse of occlumency," Albus stated, reproachfully. "Walling off one's emotions will close one to a basic facet of the human experience."

"I doubt that'll be an issue with the boy. His mind is too chaotic, too emotional, too impulsive."

"Much like another boy I once knew," Albus said knowingly.

"Will this occul-stuff make me robotic?" Harry asked, a bit scared. Was that why the other boy sometimes seemed never happy? Almost emotionless? He didn't want to be like that.

"I'm not sure what 'robotic' is, but if abused, occlumency could stunt your emotional growth," Albus warned, giving Severus a peculiar look.

"For fuck's sake old man, I'm not going to turn the child into an emotionless automaton," Severus growled, irritated.

Harry eyes widened at the language. Stevie rarely swore.

"Now Severus, is crass language really necessary?"

"With some difficulty he'll learn to close his mind to attackers," Severus interjected, ignoring the chiding. "I doubt he'll truly master the mental arts. He simply lacks the natural aptitude."

"Against my better judgment I'll defer to your expertise in this matter. However, I'd like to remind you of your obligations regarding to a promise you made relating to this subject."

"What's an automaton?" Harry had no idea what promise the professor was talking about, but couldn't miss the edge of warning in his voice.

The question was ignored. Severus glared at Albus and the old man calmly met the gaze. "I always keep my promises, old man."

"We've veered off topic," the headmaster broke the uncomfortable silence that had taken hold of the room. "I'll look into the boundaries of the wards. In the meantime, several members of the ministry law enforcement have been assigned to patrol the neighborhood."

"What's—"

"A type of magical protection and magical police," Severus anticipated Harry's question. He then tuned back to the old man. "I don't need some damn cozzer snooping about the neighborhood, harassing people. All they'll do is chase Quirrell into the shadows and snoop about my past."

"You worry too much, Severus. Their attention will be focused on the Andersons and Madam Figg," the headmaster soothed before turning to Harry, deliberately using the boy to end the conversation and switch topics. "Mister Anderson and his wife have been taken to a magical hospital. He'll return home on Saturday, with modified memories."

"How's that possible?"

"The Obliviators," Severus said disdainfully. "A group of incompetent ministry fools dedicated to modifying the memories of hapless muggles who witness magical activity."

"Now Severus, that assessment is a bit harsh."

"Is it? The neighborhood was supposed to be already under ministry watch. Now some damn cozzers and the Obliviators have been called in," Severus's voice wasn't loud, but Harry could tell he was angry, refusing to let the subject drop. "How did Quarrel circumvent the unauthorized magical detectors in the first place?"

"I'm not sure," the old man admitted. "There's several possibilities."

"Would you care to elaborate?"

"There's several charms and talismans able to mask or distort magic, making it appear to be wild magic similar to that of a child's. A modified Paladin Talisman, perhaps. Runic containments or boundaries have been considered. Wandless magic is another possibility, though highly doubtful. The Aurors are looking into it."

"One last question, how did Quirrell find his way there to begin with?"

* * *

Severus expected that occlumency lessons would be trying for both of them, but reality was different from what Severus imagined it'd be.

His first inclination was to roughly enter the boy's mind and have the child push him out. It would be a painful process, but would force Harry to learn the skill quickly as a matter of self-defense. It also taught endurance in the face of mental interrogation and built a tolerance to the resulting pain. As far as he knew, it was how the skill was traditionally taught to Aurors and young adults in pure blooded families. It was also how he honed his skills with Albus several years ago.

For some inexplicable reason, he found that he couldn't do that to the boy.

"I'm going to enter your mind and look at a recent memory," Severus instructed. "Take note of what it feels like. The intrusion will be subtle."

"Will it hurt?" Harry asked.

"No. Did I not just tell you it will be subtle?" Irritated, Severus sighed and rubbed his temples. "Look into my eyes."

" _Legilimens,"_ Severus verbally incanted the charm, making sure to clearly show the wand movement. It'd been years since he'd used a wand or verbal incantation. Today, they were props for teaching the boy.

He entered into the boy's mind, making no effort to hide his presence. Harry's mind was chaotic, unorganized, and every thought was colored by emotions. The boy's every action or thought was driven by one emotion or another. He wasn't sure if the boy would be able to detect his presence amongst the chaos. Without too much searching, he plucked out the memory of this morning's breakfast.

With the mental equivalent of a shout, he shoved the memory into the boy's forethought. As expected, the memory was distorted by strong emotion, primarily remorse and guilt for stealing his portkey. Severus pushed aside his own satisfaction at the boy's guilt, and dug deeper into the memory. Harry enjoyed the bacon the Hogwarts elves provided this morning, was fascinated by the moving photos in the newspaper, and thought of his dilapidated home as 'cozy.' The idiot child seemed to like his house better than the richly decorated and modern Dursley home, likely colored with the emotional association from years of emotional abuse and neglect.

This was all overlaid by a subtle worry he doubted the boy was consciously aware of. Effortlessly, Severus dug into the boy's subconscious and was surprised to learn of the cause. Harry was afraid that he would leave him and the boy would be alone with the Dursley's again. His anger at Harry's latest antics seemed to spark this worry. The fear was unfounded, but he could perhaps use it to his advantage, to modify the boy's behavior.

He withdrew from the boy's mind and broke eye contact. "Tell me what you felt."

"You did something?"

"Yes! I entered your mind," Severus bit back a frustrated growl. "Tell me, what were you thinking about just now?"

"I thought about breakfast this morning, how much crispier the bacon was, better than what Aunt Petunia makes. I thought about how nice your house is, even if it's a bit old."

"Tell me, what were you thinking of before?"

"I was wondering if this occule-stuff would hurt."

"Did you find it odd that your thoughts suddenly shifted from worry to breakfast?"

"No."

No. Of course the boy's unorganized and chaotic mind wouldn't notice such a thing. Harry's thoughts naturally skipped about randomly. "I pulled out your thoughts of breakfast. One way to spot a mental invasion is by noting a sudden change in your thoughts."

"How?"

"I cannot tell you that. Everyone's mind is different. What works for me probably won't work for you."

"Oh," Harry said disappointed.

"We'll try again," Severus instructed as he held up his wand. He was about to incant the charm when an idea occurred to him. Would it work? "We'll make a game of it. I'll call up your memory of breakfast, and your job is to think of something else."

"Think of what then?"

"Surprise me. Show me your favorite memory. Think only of your favorite memory. Every time your mind wanders back to breakfast, push thoughts of breakfast aside and show me your chosen memory."

"Ready?"

"Hold on, let me think of a good memory."

"Just pick one."

Harry smiled. "Okay. I got one."

"Ready?"

Harry nodded.

"One, two, three, _Legilimens!"_

Severus entered into the boy's mind, finding the brat thinking of football practice. Specifically, of Harry watching his fumbling with the ball, struggling to kick it down the field. To his chagrin, Harry thought his uncoordinated attempts at sports to be amusing. Surprisingly, there was no malice in the amusement, but only a good natured teasing at the boy who he believed was seemingly perfect at everything else.

With no finesse, he pulled up the memory of breakfast, specifically, of the moving pictures of the newspaper. He all but shouted his presence in the boy's mind. The boy didn't seem to notice that his thoughts shifted. In fact, of his own accord, the boy recalled how good the bacon was, then his thoughts shifted to how he hoped they had it for breakfast again tomorrow.

He waited several moments for the boy to realize what had happened. Suddenly, the boy's thoughts shifted to football again. He glanced up at the clock. It took the boy nearly thirty seconds to realize his thoughts had shifted.

"You did it, but it took far too long for you to realize that your thoughts shifted. Try again," Severus reined back his harsh critique, trying to be positive. "One, two, three, _Legilimens!"_

Thoughts of the football field materialized before his mind's eye. He let the memory play for a moment, then deliberately shifted it to the newspaper. ' _Illegal Quidditch Betting Ring Busted in Knockturn Alley_ ,' Harry read the headline as he stuffed another piece of bacon into his mouth.

This time the memory shifted back to football practice. Severus felt Harry's joy has he ran across the field, kicking the ball as he went, and then skillfully aimed a final hard kick. The ball few past several players and went into the net, scoring a point. Severus was impressed at how detailed both memories were. The boy more observant than he had realized. He drew out Harry's memory of breakfast again.

Harry was quicker to notice the change this time. The boy tried to switch his thoughts back to football practice again. Only this time, Severus resisted slightly. It took several moments, but Harry overcame the slight resistance.

"Good." To Severus's surprise, Harry beamed at his praise and strengthened his focus. "Now resist my attempts to draw out the memory of breakfast in the first place.

Harry smiled, enjoying the new 'game.'

* * *

"Why do I feel tired?" Harry asked, yawning as he sat at the dinner table.

"Learning occlumency requires a significant amount of magic," Severus answered as he fumbled through a pocket, looking for an analgesic potion. "How bad is your headache?"

"Headache? Don't have one," Harry yawned again. "We were just thinking at each other. Why would that make a headache?"

"You're using magic to resist a magical mental intrusion," Severus blinked. Occlumency lessons always produced headaches. But then again, as far as he knew, the skill was rarely taught this way. "Furthermore, you're using magic to rewire your mind, preparing it to utilize new skills. It's not uncommon to feel headaches and fatigue after such magical practice."

As it had over the past several days, dinner plates magically appeared on the table courtesy of Dumbledore and the Hogwarts house elves.

"I don't want to go back to the Dursleys," Harry said around a mouthful of buttered mashed potatoes. "I like it here better."

"Too bad," Severus snorted. He spent his youth, and more recently his summers, wanting to get away from this dump. He never thought he'd find this place preferable to where he was currently living. "You heard Professor Dumbledore. You need to get back to school. He's spoken with them, and they'll be expecting us."

"Why can't we run away and live here?" Harry frowned around a mouthful of potatoes. "And why would he have any say in where I live?"

"Run away? Don't be absurd. In our world, Hogwarts professors act as parental proxy to students without legally established guardians."

"But what about the Dursleys? It's their decision, not his."

"Have they formally adopted you? Either of us?"

"No," Harry thought about it for a few seconds. "We just live with them."

"According to muggle law they're our legal guardians. However, muggle law doesn't extend to the wizarding community."

Harry scrunched his face in confusion.

"Magical law considers children to be orphaned in the absence of a parent, godparent, close magical relative, or adoption. Orphaned children enrolled in Hogwarts become wards of the school. It fell to the headmaster to appoint the Dursleys as our guardians in proxy. He granted them leeway to make minor decisions in his absence, but may override them on a whim."

"That blows."

"Would you rather your Aunt have the final say over your fate?"

"No, but how do I know that weird old guy would be any better?"

"You don't," Severus smirked. "You'll just have to trust me on the matter. And that 'weird old guy' is the most respected elder in the magical community. Address him as such."

"What if I decide to go to that school we applied to instead?" Harry thought about that for a moment, ignoring the chiding. "I haven't applied to Hogwarts yet."

"Hogwarts is a public school. You were automatically enrolled the first time you displayed magical potential as an infant."

"The other school is really good though, and it's not a state school. It's a big deal if we get accepted. It's even bigger if we get a scholarship."

"You know those scholarship applications were to dupe your gullible aunt, don't you?"

"No, and I wish you'd stop trying to trick her. When she finds out she's gonna get nasty."

"She's already nasty. You're not attending a muggle school."

"You can't tell me which school I'm going to."

"Don't be obstinate."

"Hunh?"

"Your intention to attend that school is based on aspirations to assert yourself."

"Um…."

"You're being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn. Finish your dinner."

* * *

The Dursley's front door was locked, but provided no obstacle to Severus's key. All three muggles were parked in front of the telly. They glared at the two boys in the doorway.

"I warned you two not to come back," Vernon grumbled, but made no move to get up from his recliner.

"Get to your room, both of you," Petunia bit out, her hateful glare focused on Snape. "You're grounded. I don't want to see either of you."

Glumly, Harry trudged up the stairs, followed by Severus. The older boy almost bumped into Harry, as the younger boy suddenly stopped in the hall. A one-sided deadbolt now adorned the outside of their bedroom door.

"Pay the lock no mind," Severus sighed, irritated. No muggle lock could hold him. It was merely an inconvenience as he was trying to limit his use of magic. "I can open it if needed."

"What about the bars on the window?"

Severus blinked, flummoxed. Bars? Those were a bigger problem.


	12. Bonded

Chapter 11

Bonded

* * *

"Up! Both of you!" The sound of banging on the bedroom door and Petunia's shrill voice startled Severus from slumber. The sound of the lock opening followed. "If you're not downstairs in five minutes you can go without breakfast!"

Severus rolled over, tempted to skip breakfast in favor of an extra few moments of sleep. Instead, he forced himself to get up. Harry, annoyingly chipper and alert in the mornings rolled out of bed, eager at the prospect of food.

Dudley's pounding footsteps stomped past their bedroom, then descended down the stairs. The footfalls caused several of the ceramic bulldog figurines on the shelves above the bed to rattle.

"We better hurry," Harry said as he pulled a tee-shirt on. "Dudley will eat it all."

"Your aunt will then have to provide more then, wont she?" Severus grumbled.

"I wouldn't bet on it." Harry hopped about on one foot, trying to put his socks on without sitting down, "especially if she's cross."

"She well," he said, irritably. "I'll see to it."

"Okay," Harry said, obviously unconvinced.

As it turned out, Harry needn't worry about Dudley eating their breakfast. The fat boy would never eat the unsweetened cold cereal and grapefruit his aunt provided for herself and the two boys.

"I want bacon and eggs," Harry eyed his cousin's and uncle's plates longingly. "Is this skim milk? Can I at least have whole?"

"No, you're grounded." Petunia primly began eating her cereal. "I'm on a diet and you'll have what I eat."

"This is acceptable," Severus mumbled over his coffee mug as he read the nutritional information and ingredients on the box. "We'll have this for breakfast from now on."

"You can't possibly like this slop." Harry glared at his god brother. "Eat what you want. I want real food. I want bacon."

"The caloric content, cholesterol, and salt are bad for you. This contains acceptable levels of fiber and vitamins."

"Isn't that coffee bad for you too?"

"No."

"Thank you for reminding me, Harry." Petunia glared at Severus from across the table. "Vernon, take it from him."

Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry as Vernon snatched up his mug of coffee.

"You may have tea if you wish."

Severus eyed the decaffeinated muggle teabags with distaste. "I'll pass, thank you."

* * *

"Get into the car! Now! Get in and wait for me." Petunia snatched her car keys from the bowl on the console table. She then roughly grabbed Severus by the arm as he walked by. "Not you! We're going to have a chat."

Harry turned back towards the two, hesitant to leave his brother to his aunt's wrath.

"Go!" Petunia hissed at Harry as she pulled Severus out the door behind her.

Severus nodded, encouraging Harry to go to the car as he pulled from her grip.

"I know who you are, Snape," Petunia said as she locked the door. "And I want to know what game you're trying to play."

"That's none of your business, Tunny." Severus fingered the wand hidden up his sleeve. He'd have to perform a memory charm on her, but it'd have to wait until they were away from the house. The school parking lot wasn't ideal, but would have to do.

"You're just like him. Severus Snape was a nasty little brat, just like you." Petunia accused. "Did your father get himself blown up, just like Harry's mother? Or did he get himself thrown in Azkaban? I always knew he'd meet a sticky end, like the rest of you lot."

Severus blinked. Apparently Petunia hadn't figured it out after all. He decided to let her draw the wrong conclusion, if it'd save him the trouble of a memory charm.

"I don't know why you're pretending to be James Potter's bastard godson," she continued. "But I need to know one thing."

"And what would that be?"

"Was my sister your mother? Did she have some sordid or illicit affair?"

"Lilly wouldn't do that."

"How would you know, you little shit? Your father probably has his way with her, didn't he?"

"How would I know?" he hissed, not quite able to hide his anger behind his occlumency shields. He'd let the vile woman think what she wanted. "I'm James Potter's legally designated heir, along with Harry."

"Humph. You don't look anything like her, nor Harry," She glared at him for a long moment, studying his face. "You definitely take after your father. Get in the car."

000

"What did she want?" Harry asked as the two walked through the playground.

"She questioned my parentage," Severus grumbled, still angry. "She thinks I'm the son of someone she and your mother knew years ago."

"What did you tell her?"

"I let her draw her own conclusions, incorrect they were though."

"So who were your parents?" Harry asked. "You told me they were dead, but not much else."

Severus though about it for a moment, before deciding to tell Harry. "My father was an unemployed muggle steelworker. My mother lost most of her magical core to a preventable muggle disease when she was eighteen. Her family disowned her when she became a squib and married my father."

"What disease?"

"Measles."

"Isn't there a vaccine for that?"

"Yes. Apparently muggles are too stupid to get vaccinated. They stupidly believe it causes something called autism."

"Is that true?"

"No. A muggle employed by a pharmaceuticals company began the rumor in hopes of pedaling his company's own vaccine brand. The little piece of shit should be rotting in Azkaban."

"Oh." Harry blinked, not really understanding his brother's tirade or how to respond to it. "How did they die?"

"My mother committed suicide. My father died of cirrhosis of the liver."

"What's cirrhosis?"

"A complication of excessive alcohol consumption."

"I'm sorry." Harry wasn't sure what else to say.

"It's no matter. Save your pity for someone else," Severus said. "You're not to tell your aunt or anyone else, even should they ask. Remember, you're bound by that oath you took on Halloween."

"I know."

* * *

"I understand you've been studying biology lately," the specialist from Cambridge said several weeks later. It was early December, and Severus had been meeting with him for an hour for the past several weeks. "Genetics in particular. How is that coming along?"

"Biochemistry. And you would know this how?" Severus silently crossed his arms and glared as the man pulled out the questionnaire he filled out at last week's session.

The man laid it on the desk between them. "You filled out the questionnaire in a repeating pattern, GGCCAAFCF. Replace T with F, it'll correspond to a specific repetitive nucleotide sequence, commonly known as the Cat Box."

Severus didn't think the muggle would pick up on it and was curious to see what he'd make of it. "I underestimated your intelligence."

The doctor blinked, surprised at the blunt and rude answer. "I did attend medical school, which covered basic genetics."

Severus wasn't impressed at the credentials and expressed this by extending and displaying his middle finger.

The man blinked, but otherwise ignored the gesture. "Your teachers are worried about you. I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but you periodically display signs of social anxiety disorder."

"Thank you for the criticism," Severus sneered. "I shall modify my behavior in your presence."

"No, that's not what I meant. You appear depressed and disinterested in interacting with your fellow students."

"That would be an apt assessment. I've no interest in interacting with them, and intermingling with dunderheads depresses me."

"I've also noticed you tend to use dark humor as a defense mechanism, to distance yourself, preventing social interactions."

"Was that in the Oxford Clinical Handbook of Atypical and Complex Adolescent Psychology in by Leslie K. Anderson?" Severus asked. He'd seen the man with the book last week and checked it out at the public library out of curiosity. "I suppose you're about to suggest cognitive behavioral therapy and prescribe a course of selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors."

"Yes, to both." The man leaned back in his chair and regarded the boy for several moments. Severus thought the doctor hid his surprise well. "How do you feel about this?"

"I've no interest in therapy. However, the prospect of increasing neural serotonin levels has piqued my curiosity."

"I generally do not prescribe such medications to children. There's been very little research on the long term developmental effects of such prescriptions on children."

Severus deadpanned, "I'll risk it."

"I spoke to your aunt this morning and she consented to both the therapy and medication. In fact, she seemed enthusiastic about the medication, and insisted on it."

Severus snorted derisively. "I'm sure she did."

"Your relationship with her seems strained. Tell me how you feel about…."

* * *

"What do you want for Christmas?" Harry asked as the two boys walked to the bus stop that evening. It was Friday, and on Fridays the Dursley's typically dumped the two off at the local library. They let them wander about Surry until they found their way home at about nine.

He'd never allow children to wander through a muggle city at night with nothing but a bus pass. He was a fully trained wizard able to defend himself and Harry, but the Dursleys didn't know that.

It was early December, several weeks before Christmas and the holiday break had just began. The houses in the neighborhood were lit with colorful lights and garish plastic decorations.

"To go home," Severus answered shortly without thinking. He'd long since grown accustomed to the boy's endless chatter and ignored the bulk of it.

"You mean to your house at Spinner's End?"

"No."

"You are home then, with the Dursleys, aren't you?"

"How unfortunate for me," Severus grumbled absently as he scanned for threats among the passing cars and pedestrians. "I wish for nothing then."

"The Dursleys probably won't get us anything. I doubt they'll let us eat Christmas dinner with them either," Harry warned. "They'll probably lock us in our room."

"That'll suit me fine."

"Do magical people celebrate Christmas differently from muggle people?"

"Do the Dursleys light a Yuletide Log?" Severus asked as he eyed a small group of smoking teenagers scornfully. As the wind shifted, he caught the scent of burning cannabis.

"No."

"Then some of the traditions are different. I believe decorating a tree is the same."

"Different how?"

"Traditional magical families celebrate Yule on the winter solstice, whichever day it falls on. Those of muggle decent celebrate on the 25th, marking the birthdate of a series of one of their inane muggle religious icons."

"A series?"

"Chrishna, Invictus, Horus, Osiris, Attis, Mithra, Heracles, Dionysus, Tammuz, Adonis, Buddha, and Jesus were all fabled to be born on December 25 or the winter solstice, most of whom born to virgins."

"They'll get cranky if you compare Jesus to Buddha," Harry advised. "Uncle Vernon usually wants to go to Midnight Mass."

"Midnight Mass?"

"At the church. It's boring, and all they talk about is how everybody but them is going to hell when they die."

"I can see how that'd be depressing."

"They only go to church on Sundays when Aunt Marge is in town, or uncle Vernon wants to network for work."

"I see," Severus said not really understanding but allowed the boy to prattle on.

"I guess Aunt Petunia will try to keep us at home this year while they go. Uncle Vernon has clients he hobnobs with who go every year." Harry fell silent for a moment before asking, "can you show me how magical people celebrate Christmas?"

"No."

"Um," Harry was clearly disappointed and a little hurt. "Okay."

"Maybe next year," Severus sighed as he amended. "We cannot burn a Yule Log in a floo, or perform a ritual."

"The bus is late," Harry observed after several silent moments.

"Thank you for stating the obvious."

"What was that old book you've been reading? I couldn't understand any of it." Harry ignored the snarky retort.

"That would be because it's written in Latten. I'm researching medical potions, specifically a novel class of mood regulating potions."

Harry scrunched up his face in confusion. "How can it be novel if it's in an old book?"

"The class of potions is new because I've just invented it, as the idea recently occurred to me. I was conducting periphery research on preliminary potion ingredient combinations."

"Does this have anything to do with the crazy pills from the shrink? Are you trying to make a magical version of them?"

"Yes, and I manipulated him into prescribing them to me. I'll need them for my research."

"Um, no offence, but maybe you should take them." Harry didn't think Severus had to manipulate the shrink into giving him anything. The man probably all but threw the pills at him. "If I were you, I'd pop the pills like they're Tic Tacs."

Severus glared at the boy, not understanding the muggle reference. "I've no desire for muggle pharmaceuticals mucking up my neurochemistry, never mind the side effects."

"Shouldn't you take the pills for research then? So you can compare the effects with your new potion?"

Was the boy trying to manipulate him into taking those damn pills? Severus was saved from having to come up with a scathing retort by the arrival of the bus.

"If you're not going to take them, then can we slip them in Aunt Petunia's breakfast?" Harry asked as he sat down. "Maybe you can whip up your new potion and put it in her tea."

Severus snorted as he slumped into the seat next to the boy, slipping into lecture mode. "I'm months from brewing, and the ventilation in your room is inadequate for experimentation. Testing on subjects and refining will take years, after a method for testing is developed. Peer review and guild approval can take decades after that." Of course he'd have to hurry and register his preliminary thesis with the guild, before some nitwit with a well-equipped lab at Saint Mungo's stole his idea.

"Have you ever done this before?"

"Invent a new class of medical potions? No," the bus lurched forward. "I specialize in poisons, particularly the distillation of venomous serums."

Harry blinked. _Poisons?_ "You mean like snake and spider venom?"

"Yes. Most potions have been in use for hundreds of years, slowly evolving and improving through the centuries. Most potioneres focus on simplifying or improving formulas. The quicker and easier a potion is made, or the longer it can be preserved, the more profitable it is," Severus clarified. "It's rare that a new one is invented."

"And why poisons?"

"Antidotes and medicines are often derived from poisons and venoms." Severus sidestepped the question, not wanting to talk about how he was pressed into that research by the Dark Lord.

* * *

Petunia glared as she pushed a little pink pill across the table to Severus the next morning. "Take it."

"No," Severus contemplated taking it, out of curiosity. What would it do to him? He knew the clinical side effects on the human body, but had no idea how it'd interact with his magic, if it would do anything at all. As far as he knew, there was no research on the subject.

"Do as you're told," Vernon grumbled from behind the newspaper. "I'm sick of dealing with your mood swings."

"Crazy creep," Dudley snickered around a mouthful of bacon.

"Take the bars off Harry's bedroom window and I may consider it."

Harry looked up from his cold cereal at the mention of his name.

"So you two little hoodlums can wander 'bout the neighborhood in the middle of the night, doing God knows what? I don't think so."

"Then no, I won't take it," Severus said. "Your son may benefit from it."

"Enough!" Vernon roared as he rolled up the paper and smacked Severus over the head with it. He didn't bother ducking out of the way. It was only a paper and didn't hurt. He did finger the wand hidden in his sleeve, just in case. "You'll take the damn pill, or you can find another place to live!"

"Fine." It was a low dose and he could always stop taking it, or perhaps utilize a purging potion. He took the Paxil.

"Is it working? You don't look like you feel any different." Harry observed, studying Severus closely. He looked up to see the Dursleys watching him closely.

"Full efficacy takes several weeks, you nitwits." Severus pushed his grapefruit towards Harry. "You can have my grapefruit."

"I don't want it. They taste nasty and bitter."

* * *

"No! You're not clearing your mind!"

"You keep saying that, but you never showed me how."

"And I told you, I cannot show you. This is something you're going to have to figure out on your own. Everyone does it differently."

"I don't like these lessons. I like the first ones better."

"You've progressed pass those. This is the next step. Push my presence out of your mind. I'm not resisting."

"I can feel you, but I don't know how to get you out of my mind." Severus grimaced as Harry gave his presence the mental equivalent of a friendly pat on the back.

"For fuck's sake Potter, you're trying to push me out, not invite me over for an imaginary tea party!" He withdrew from the boy's mind, or tried to. A previously unnoticed sense of the boy's surface thoughts remained in his subconscious.

As if sensing the shift in his thoughts, Harry's focus changed. Subconsciously, he looked deeply into Severus's eyes, searching for answers. "What's wrong?"

"Close your eyes."

The boy's presence mostly vanished from his mind, leaving only a vague sense of his presence. "Crap."

"Something's happened." Harry's eyes opened and the connection resumed at the eye contact. "What's wrong?"

"Tell me, what am I thinking about?" Severus focused his thoughts to the book on the desk.

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Take a guess."

"I can't read minds like you."

"Try."

"I dunno, plants maybe?"

The book on the desk was a muggle text on medicinal herbs, specifically Saint John's Wort.

"I guessed right, didn't I?"

"Yes." Severus thought back. The boy always had an uncanny ability to read his moods and guess his thoughts. He dismissed it as simple observation. However, the boy just wasn't that observant. No ten year old child was. "Lucky guess."

He shouldn't have chosen this method of teaching the brat occlumency. Rather than condition the boy's mind to push out all intrusions, he seemed to have inadvertently formed a preliminary mental link. Such bonds were very rare, but not unheard of with those sharing an underlining link: twins; life debts; slavery bonds; and magical resonance.

His eyes fell to the lightning shaped scar on the boy's forehead. They both held a magical connection to the Dark Lord through obscure branches of soul magic. He sensed this provided the catalyst for the bond, but he still missed a key clue. But what could that be? He thought back to their first meeting. Harry felt a pain in his scar. Did the connection start then?

The boy would never be able to push him out, and it was only a matter of time before he became consciously aware of the connection. As long as the boy lived, he'd never be alone in his mind again.

Angrily, he picked up the book and threw it at the shelf of ceramic figurines. They crashed to the floor, shelf and all, broken. Wild magic surged up, but he directed it towards the lock on the door. The deadbolt latch disappeared, banished to God knows where.

How much more would he have to sacrifice to the brat? For the first time in years, Severus felt like crying. He felt scared. He felt angry. He felt like he had to get out of there.

He threw it open and stormed out and down the stairs. Silently, the Dursleys watched from the Livingroom he stomped to the front door and rushed out. The cold winter air went unfelt as he ran, stopping when he realized he was in the park. It was dark and abandoned.

* * *

The hair on the back of Harry's neck stood.

Harry's first impulse was to follow his brother. He was angry and confused. But he also needed time alone to think.

His life had just changed trajectory. He couldn't say how or why.

* * *

Author's note:

the story is finished in it's entirety. Total word count is about 105,000, and this chapter represents the half-way point. It just needs to be edited (I don't have a beta reader). Also, this is not a 'bonding fic'. It's not a big part of the story and it'll get explained in later chapters.


	13. A Change of Trajectory

Chapter Twelve

A Change of Trajectory

* * *

The crack of apparition startled Severus from his sulking. He pulled out his wand and rolled to a crouch in a single practiced motion. The curse died on his lips as he recognized the magical signature of the figure.

"I almost separated your head from your neck, old man," Severus grumbled after the old man cast several privacy wards.

Dumbledore smiled, sensing the younger man was in a snit. He handed Severus the metal thing. "This appeared on my desk about an hour ago. I thought you may want it back."

It took several moments for Severus to recognize the object as he turned it over in his hands. It was the latch from the deadbolt he'd accidently banished. How he managed to send it through Hogwarts's wards he'd never know.

"I take it the wild magic was from you, and not Harry?" Dumbledore sat on the park bench next to Severus.

"You know very well who banished this." Severus fought back the urge to get up and leave. "What do you want?"

"What happened?"

"I can't do this anymore. Find someone else to babysit the brat."

"Severus, what happened?" Dumbledore repeated.

"We were practicing occlumency when I sensed an incipient mental link. Your precious savior will be irreversibly bound to a Death Eater should this be allowed to continue."

"Is the link reciprocal?"

"Yes," Severus mulled it over for a moment. "The boy appears to be more attuned to it, though on an unconscious level."

The old man fell silent, deep in thought. "I see."

"I see? You see? What exactly do you 'see'?" Severus cruelly mocked the old man's words. "Did you know this would happen?"

"I didn't foresee this complication, no. Do you know how it happened? Could it be tied to the godchild confirmation ritual?"

"Don't be ludicrous. This started before Samhain." Severus thought back of the past several months. "The link is similar to the one shared by the Dark Lord and his favored minions. The boy's curse scar and the remnants of my dark mark seem to be correlated.

"That shouldn't be enough to forge a bond with the boy." Albus thought about it for a moment. "There's something more I'm not seeing. The bond Voldemort shares with his inner circle is abusive, twisted, and one sided. While the potential was there, you never formed such a link though your mark. Your loyalty and devotion to Voldemort were somewhat lacking, as was his regard for you."

"Never mind how it formed! If I'm not removed from the boy's presence, the bond will strengthen and mature."

"If a bond has indeed been formed as you described, the inevitable can only be delayed. Would that be such a bad thing?"

Severus stared at Dumbledore as if he had grown a second head. "Have you given any thought to the boy's life? What kind of future will he have chained to me?"

"Chained?" The old man chuckled. "That's a bit of an exaggeration. I somehow doubt the boy will mind being attuned to your mental state, even as moody you tend to be. In fact, you'd be hard press to convince him otherwise. He loves you."

"He also loves Taco Tuesdays. He's a child, just as clueless as the rest of them."

"Have you thought about what kind of future he'll have without his bondmate?" Albus said, twisting Snape's words against him.

"The boy will get over it and move on. I cannot do this."

"You don't have a choice. What's done is done. The bond has formed. This makes for a pleasant change of plans."

"Are you not listening to me old man? I'm tethered to the boy as if he were the Dark Lord!"

"You swore an oath Severus, and I hold you to it. You shall watch over the boy. Furthermore, you'll do nothing to block or discourage the bond's formation."

Severus said nothing. He just stared at the ground. For the second time that night, he struggled to hold back tears. What was wrong with him? Why was he so damn emotional?

"I wish I could say that I'm sorry Severus, but I'm not. You need this, you need him. Harry has been good for you, and will continue to be good for you." Dumbledore stood. "I'll research the matter, but we may never learn why the bond formed. I do know bonds are a blessing to family, fidelity, and friendship in all its forms."

 _Can't we just run away?_ The childish words Harry uttered several weeks ago echoed in his mind. At the time he scoffed at them. But could he? Could he run away? What would the oath do to him if he broke it? Would it kill him or simply take his magic? What would he do, trapped in the body of a ten year old? "You should go."

"I suppose it's getting late. You have school in the morning," Dumbledore said, his gentle tone light and teasing.

Severus wasn't amused. The old man knew very well it was the holiday break.

"Before I go, I do have one question. What is Taco Tuesday?"

* * *

"You're back," Harry observed from the bed.

"An astute observation," Severus snipped as he pulled his pajamas from a drawer.

"I'm glad that you came back. For a minute I thought that you might not come back, that you wanted to run away."

Severus stared at the boy, his dark eyes boring into the child. "I've nowhere else to go."

"You still want to go though, don't you? Away from me."

There was no point in trying to hide the truth or his feelings from the boy. "Yes."

He expected the brat to feel hurt at the admission. Instead, he seemed to sense something deeper going on. "When I was little I packed all my stuff into my pillowcase and ran away from the Dursley's to live in the park. It was fun at first, but then it got dark and scary. I stayed there the whole weekend, and it started to rain. I hoped they'd come and get me, miss me, but they didn't. They didn't even know I was gone."

Severus sighed as he pulled on his pajama top. "And the point of this pathetic tale of woe is?"

"I'd miss you, and come find you."

"You'll do no such thing! If I ever go missing, you're to stay put."

"No, I won't."

Severus rolled his eyes as he climbed into bed. There was no point in arguing about it now. He'd revisit the issue later.

* * *

"You two are not to run about the shopping center like little hoodlums," Vernon lectured around a mouthful of scrambled egg. "I'd leave you two here, but I want a house to return to when we get back."

"You're to keep your grubby little hands in your pockets," Petunia piped in. "Don't touch or break anything."

"Can't they just stay at Mrs. Figg's?" Dudley whined. "We've always left him there before."

"No, she's not home. They'll have to come Christmas shopping with us."

"Might I suggest that you drop us off at the Library then?"

Harry kicked the older boy's shin under the table. "Shush!" he whispered. He wanted to go to the shopping center.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you Poindexter?" Vernon sneered.

"What's a Poindexter?" Harry asked.

"You're sitting next to one. The library it is then."

"It's Sunday. The library closes at noon," Harry pointed out, not knowing if it was true or not. It sounded good though. "There's no bus today so we'd have to wander the streets like hoodlums all afternoon or hitchhike back."

"You'll do no such thing!" Petunia screeched. "I'll not have you drag home the type of lowlife who'd pick up little boys off the street! They'd either rob us blind or kill us in our sleep!"

Severus glared into his cold cereal, sensing Harry's fib, but said nothing. He didn't know what a 'hitchhike' was, but it was sounding more and more likely that he'd be spending the afternoon at this 'shopping center'.

"It's settled then. There's a bookstore in the mall. You two can loiter there all day for all I care. I don't want to see or hear from you two all day while we finish our Christmas shopping."

"That's worse than the Library!" Harry grumbled unhappily. "Can we have some money for the arcade? Or a movie?"

"No."

"What about lunch?"

"We're gonna go to the buffet!" Dudley sneered. "Without you!"

"I suggest you fix yourself a peanut butter sandwich to take with you. Don't expect supper either," Petunia added. "The food court has free samples. You can eat those."

"But the bread is stale, and they'll get mad if we take more than one sample!"

"The bread is fine, just a bit dry. Quit complaining and be grateful for what I give you."

"Speaking of things you've giving us," Severus piped up, digging into his pocket. He pulled out the deadbolt latch and set it on the table. "The new lock you gave us appears to have broke."

* * *

"Are you two gonna buy anything or not?" A spotty teen with messy hair and a mouthful of gum asked. "This ain't no library after all."

Severus glared up from his book, glasses perched on his nose.

"We haven't any money," Harry piped up from behind his comic book before Severus could respond.

"You've been here all morning. My manager wants you to either buy sometin' or leave."

"Fine," Severus sighed. He glanced towards the front of the store, where the bustling of the mall could be seen beyond. He'd rather stay in the quiet bookstore, even though he had to sit on the floor to read his book. He stuffed it back into his book bag.

"Hey now, you gotta pay for that," the clerk warned, then popped her gum.

Severus pulled the book back out and showed the library stamp on the book.

"Who reads a library book in a bookstore?"

"He does," Harry grumbled, stuffing his pile of comics and magazines on a random shelf. "He's loads of fun in a real library."

"Just go," the clerk irritably picked up the mess. "I don't want to see you two in here again."

"let's go to the food court!" Harry pulled Severus by the book bag strap, leading him towards the chaos in the mall. "I'm hungry!"

Severus decided he didn't like the shopping center. The massive complex contained several large stores and a multitude of smaller stores, smashed together in a maze of crass muggle consumerism. It was crowded, full of muggles bustling about with bags filled with their mass-produced crap. Worst of all, was the ever persistent Christmas music and garish plastic decor.

Harry loved it all. He loved watching the muggles. He loved looking at the displays through the glass storefronts. He loved the holiday music, often humming and singing along with it.

As an adult he towered above most crowds, his presence was enough to part his way through any throng. As a small child, he found himself ducking and dodging, unable to see pass the swarm of muggles. It frustrated him to no end.

The food court was in the center of the complex, containing a multitude of muggle fast food counters. On the outskirts were several moderately priced restraints and a pricy steakhouse.

"That must be the all you can eat buffet Dudley and Uncle Vernon likes," Harry pointed out, a bit of jealousy in his voice. "I've never been there though."

"Look, vegan Indian food! Maybe they have samples if you ask for them!" Harry pulled Severus towards a line of muggles. "They have a McDonalds, but I bet they don't give out samples. The pretzel place might though."

"No," Severus said, steering Harry away from the line, coming to a decision.

"But we're going to lose our place in line," Harry protested, but allowed the older boy to pull him away.

"Do you even like vegan or Indian food?"

"Maybe." Harry shrugged. "I don't know what it's like. I'll find out."

"That's what I thought."

"It might be good."

"That's beside the point. I refuse to beg muggles for scraps of food, and you're not going to either."

"You'd rather eat the peanut butter sandwiches?"

"Yes," Severus led Harry towards the outskirts of the food court. Harry's disappointment was obvious.

Harry scrunched up his nose, "stale bread and all?"

"If it ever comes to that, yes. However, today is not that day," Severus said, and then pointed towards the restaurants. It didn't take a bond to know which one Harry would choose. "Pick one. Not the steakhouse, we can't afford that one."

"Really?" Harry smiled, excited. "I get to choose one? For both of us?"

"Quickly, before I change my mind."

"I want to try the buffet, but where'd you get the money?"

"Left over savings from our Friday outings to the library." Severus didn't mention that he had a small stash of both muggle and wizarding money set aside. It wasn't enough to live off of, but would see them fed and clothed through the year and following summers if Petunia's 'generosity' ever dried up. "The twenty pounds she gives us is more than enough for a cheap meal. I've been putting away the remainder."

"How much have you saved?"

"Roughly sixty-five," Severus said as he queued up in line at the register, eyeing the prices. "Enough to pay for our meals today, with a bit left over for some notebook paper if we're careful. I suggest you not mention the savings to your relatives. If they ask, you're to say we found several twenty pound note."

"Yeah," Harry smirked. "We found it in your hand."

* * *

Severus thought the food was horrible, especially compared to Hogwarts. Harry however seemed to love it. He'd never seen the boy so glutinous, especially at the ice cream sundae bar.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Severus sarcastically asked.

"I feel a bit sick."

"I'm not surprised. You need to learn to pace yourself, or you may end up looking like your cousin."

"Thanks, I feel even sicker now. You didn't eat as much as me."

"It wasn't a contest."

"Didn't you like it?"

"Muggle food is greasy, salty, and sugary. I've yet to acclimate." He remembered that it took him a while to get used to the food at Hogwarts when he was a child, and had a hard time switching back during the summers.

"But that's what makes it good. Is magical food so different?"

"In the magical world, food tends to be made fresh by scratch. We don't need chemicals or salt to keep it from spoiling. I suspect you may find it bland, as it'll be lacking MSG."

 _What the hell was MSG?_ "Do they at least have ice cream?"

"Yes, but it doesn't taste like that," Severus said pointing at the soft serve machine at the sundae bar. "It's actually made from dairy cream."

"Uh-oh," Harry said looking over Severus's shoulder.

Severus craned his neck around to see Vernon and Petunia Dursley glaring at him. "I think it's best if we left."

"They don't look happy to see us."

"Are they ever? They're probably wondering where we got the money."

"I bet Aunt Petunia will think we stole it."

"Never mind her. It'll be fine."

"I don't know. They don't want us here. This is their thing, and us being here spoils it for them."

"Too bad for them."

* * *

"Mum and dad think you snuck into the restaurant," Dudley said, roughly shoving into Severus from behind, nearly knocking him off his feet. "I told them that I thought you stole the money."

"Good for you," Severus answered as he bit back a sigh. Of all the stores in the mall, Dudley had to find them in this one. "Harry, just grab several. I don't care what color. No, not wide rule."

"How'd you use up the notebooks mum and dad got you?"

"Copious notetaking. You should try it sometime."

"Huh?"

Severus ignored the question as he grabbed a package of highlighters off a display, then eyed some post-it note pads. Those would make lovely book marks that he could take notes on….

"Are you gonna shoplift those?"

"No!" Harry answered indignantly, several thick spiral bound notebooks in his arms. "I found the money. There's some left over so Stevie's getting more paper."

"Yeah, found it in my mum's purse maybe. Mum already told a clerk to have security watch you, that you're troublemakers."

"Speaking of which, are they nearby? They should be the ones purchasing this."

"No. Dad went to go buy a new lock for your door. Mum went to find a present for Aunt Marge."

"No matter," Severus said, doing a quick mental calculation. Several notebooks, the highlighters, and the post-its would eat up the remainder of the savings. "We're done here."

"Mum and Dad gave me money for two movie tickets and popcorn. It starts soon," Dudley said, smirking. "Don't get caught stealing anything, or else you'll be in trouble. I doubt they'll be in the mood to get you out of juvie."

"What do you mean by that?" Harry asked, his hackles rising.

Dudley smirked, before waddling off, "you'll find out."

"Pay him no mind," Severus said, shouldering his book bag and pulling Harry towards the cash registers.

"He's up to something."

"Ignore him," Severus said, pulling the money out of his pocket. He all but shoved it at the cashier. "Since when do you care what your cousin says?"

"I don't," Harry said. "But look, he's watching us."

Dudley was indeed watching them, smirking, just beyond the mall entrance to the store. A mall guard stood nearby, watching them, as if waiting for something. It struck Severus as odd. "Dudley did say your aunt spoke to a clerk about us. Pay it no mind."

Harry grabbed the shopping bag of paper and followed Severus towards the storefront. The instant they walked through an alarm sounded. The mall security, already waiting for them, walked up to them while speaking into his radio. Shoppers stopped, to stare at the scene.

Severus put his hand on Harry's arm, sensing that the boy was about to run.

"Please come with me."

Beyond, Harry saw Dudley laugh, before walking off towards the cinema.

* * *

The guard lead the two boys to a security office filled with monitors on a wall. Each monitor showed a different area, and a board looking woman worked a keyboard with a joystick, zooming in on areas of interest.

Severus found himself fascinated. Where were the cameras? He recalled seeing a few in the store, but didn't recall seeing the vast number of cameras the surveillance wall implied. Harry however, was too upset to care. He was close to tears.

"Do you have the recording for video feed twenty-two alpha?" the guard set the book bag and bag of paper on a table.

Without a word, the woman slid a VCR tape across the counter. "The store manager is going through their own video feed. He'll deliver a copy of the tape when he's done."

"Is there anything you two wish to confess before we get started?" the guard said as he placed a tape recorder on the counter. He stated the date and time after pressing the record button. "It'll be quicker you if you confess."

"We didn't steal anything," Harry sobbed.

"We'll do it the hard way then. Please state your name, address, and age. Please be aware that if you provide a false name it will be harder on you."

"I'm Stephen Prince, eleven, and he's Harry Potter, ten," Severus answered. "Residents of number four, Privet drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Wards of Vernon and Petunia Dursley."

"Let's see what we have in the bag," pulled the paper and highlighters out of the plastic shopping bag. He examined the receipt and set it aside.

"Various stationary, paid for," he spoke into the recorder. He then opened the book bag, where he pulled out a biochemistry book, a mostly filled notebook. "A library book, school supplies, owned by the child in question. Two bus passes and library cards, with matching names and addresses. A plastic shopping bag, filled with various merchandise."

"That's not ours!" Harry protested.

"No doubt, it belongs to the store."

"We didn't place those items in my book bag," Severus piped up, his tone calm and measured. "I believe Dudley Dursley to be the responsible party."

"You're claiming this other boy framed you?" the guard asked, obviously having heard that excuse before and not believing it. He opened the bag and pulled the items out. "Four video games, three DVDs, five CDs, a watch, and a silver necklace. Several hundred pounds of merchandise in total were found in the possession of the juvenile perpetrators in question."

"Suspected perpetrators," Severus corrected.

"I will give you one last chance to confess," the guard glared at Severus, irritated at being corrected by a child.

"No! We didn't do it."

"Very well." He put the tape into the VCR and pushed play. He had to fast-forward a bit, but slowed it Harry and Severus appeared on the monitor.

Fascinated, Severus watched the video as he and harry stood in line at the cash register. They paid for the items and walked towards the storefront. They stopped, and the guard approached.

"See? Look, there's Dudley, watching us, behind you," Harry sobbed. Tears and snot rolled down his face.

"Of course the boy is looking at you. You just set off the alarm." The guard shoved a box of tissue at the boy.

"We didn't do anything wrong!"

"I'll be calling the police," the guard sighed as he began writing on a notepad. "The juvenile court system can sort you out. Had you confessed, I'd only have been calling your guardians."

Suddenly the VCR squealed, and a small puff of smoke rose from its innards, smelling of burnt plastic.

"What the hell?" The guard pried the tape out of the VCR, or what remained of it. The cartridge was cracked down the middle, the tape tangled inside the machine, half melted.

"Harry, calm yourself," Severus said, feeling the tingle of Harry's accidental magic.

Tears forgotten, Harry watched as the guard tried to pull the tape out of the malfunctioning VCR. He only managed to make it worse, as the tape fell apart in his hands. A puddle of tape lay at his feet after several moments.

"Is that the only copy?" He asked the woman.

"Yeah. The store manager will be bringing by their tapes any time now, though."

"Since I don't have the tape, I'll be needing a signed statement from you as a witness," he told the woman as he pulled additional forms out of a filing cabinet.

Before she could respond, there was a knock on the office door. A man, Severus guessed to be the manager with the tape, waved the guard over. Quietly, they whispered to each other for a few moments. Several times they looked over at the two boys, arguing.

"Oh for pity's sake! You always pull this crap on me. Those two are obviously up to something. Look at them, especially the creepy one!"

Severus glared stonily up at the guard.

"Which child are you referring to, Bob? The one with snot on his face, or the one dressed in slacks and penny loafers?" the manager asked sarcastically. "I've never seen those two before, and don't think they're the ringleaders. The fat one comes to my store several times a month, vandalizing merchandise and causing trouble with a group of brats. Last week he broke several mannequins. Shoplifting is the last straw. I want him out of my store. Permanently."

"He ran off!" the guard pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated. "It'd be easier to just charge these two."

"But we didn't do anything," Harry repeated, piteously.

"You'll find the boy at the cinema," Severus said with a glair at the guard. "He's tickets to view Home Alone and Rocky."

"He's my cousin," Harry added, sniffling. "He told us before this happened."

"Fine. I'll see what I can do." The guard sighed. "I leave for the holidays in a few hours. If his parents don't pick him up before then, I'm calling the constable."

"Good."

"May we take our leave then?"

"Take your things and go. But if I ever see you two again-"

"Oh for fuck's sake Bob, leave those two alone! Last week some tweeker walked off with a crate of pseudoephedrine and lithium batteries while you were off chasing kids stealing candy bars."

Silently, the guard pointed towards the door. Harry and Severus didn't need any more prompting.

* * *

"That was close," Harry said, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "He almost called the police on us."

Severus winced in disgust. "I believe this was my fault. I should have paid closer attention to the situation. It was obvious he was up to something."

"Do you think Dudley will get in trouble?" Harry asked, watching as several guards walked towards the cinema, receiving instructions over their radios.

"I can only hope, though I doubt it. Petunia will find a way to twist the situation on us." Severus looked up at the ceiling. Now that he knew what to look for, he saw the little cameras everywhere.

"I want to go home," Harry gloomily said.

"We've several hours yet. I imaging if they take Dudley in, it'll be unpleasant there for us."

"Maybe we should wait at the car, in case the mall cop changes his mind," Harry moodily suggested. "Besides, if Aunt Petunia's mad enough, she might leave without us again."

"Perhaps that would be best," he agreed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out several bills. "But before we go, I believe there's enough money left for ice-cream."

Harry smiled, cheered a bit.

* * *

"What are you two doing, loitering in the car park?" Vernon groused as he loaded wrapped packages into the back of the car. "You've an hour before it's time to leave."

"The bookstore told us to either buy something or get out," Harry said. "We got bored."

"So you came here?" His beady eyes narrowed in suspicion. He looked over the car, as if the two boys sitting next to it nicked the paint.

"I detest holiday crowds," Severus said. "I prefer the quiet."

"Fair enough," the fat man said, sounding unconvinced as he threw the last of the wrapped packages into the back. "Have you seen Dudley?"

"We briefly saw him, said something about going to the cinema." Severus smoothly sidestepped. "We haven't seen him since."

"And what were you two trying to pull, showing up at that restaurant?" He unlocked the driver's side door.

"We found a bit of money. Harry wanted to try the buffet."

"If I find that you two stole that money there'll be hell to pay!" Vernon warned, before sitting in the driver's seat. The car's suspension struggled under the man's weight, the whole side of the car dipping several inches. "Get in. I'm running back home to hide Dudley's and Pet's Christmas presents. You may as well help me put them in the attic."

The two boys didn't need to be asked twice. They scrambled into the car, eager to leave the mall before the fat man changed his mind.

* * *

Harry hated going into the attic. The Dursley's occasionally made him go up there when they wanted him to fetch something or stash a box of old crap. Every birthday and holiday, Dudley's presents were hidden up there. Of course, the first chance he got, Dudley would sneak up there to snoop.

"You're to stay in your room, out of trouble 'til I get back," Vernon lectured as he waddled down the stairs, slightly out of breath from the 'exertion' of returning the folding attic ladder back to its hiding spot in the ceiling trapdoor. "Stay out of the attic, and don't tell Dudley. I'll only be gone long enough to pick up Dudley and Petunia."

"I believe the boy already knows about the cache of gifts," Severus murdered. He wanted nothing more than to lock himself in the bedroom and read one of his books. "And don't hurry on our account."

"I've had enough of your cheek," Vernon grabbed his keys off the hall console table. They lay next to the answering machine, which was blinking furiously. "Who the devil would be leaving so many messages the Saturday before Christmas?"

Severus felt Harry next to him freeze, the boy suddenly alarmed about something.

The machine beeped as the tape inside rewound back to the beginning of several messages.

 _"_ _Hello Vernon,"_ Marge's voice wafted from the machine. _"I've decided to book that vacation to Aruba you suggested, so I will not be joining you and Petunia for the holiday this year. If you would be so kind as to call me back sometime this evening regarding some proposed holiday plans."_

The machines beeped again. Harry relaxed slightly.

" _Hey Big D_ ," one of Dudley's friends voice sounded from the machine. " _Call me back. My mum said she'd drop us off tomorrow if your mum will pick us up."_

It beeped again.

 _"_ _Hello. This is Robert Terwilliger with Security Solutions at Sunset Galleria,"_ the voice said. Harry's eyes grew large. _"I've had two boys in my custody today, a Harry Potter and Stephen Prince regarding a mistaken case of shoplifting. They were released after the incident was cleared up. A third boy, Dudley Dursley, is currently being detained in my office regarding this same incident. Please come to my office. If the boy isn't retrieved by a legal guardian by six o'clock I'll be forced to call the constable. Thank you."_

Harry glanced at the clock. It was almost five-thirty. If Vernon hurried, and if traffic cooperated, Vernon might get there in time. It was unlikely though.

"Waiting by my car because you're bored, were you?" Vernon's face turned a deep red, contrasting nastily with his blond mustache and eyebrows. "You two just couldn't resist causing trouble, could you? What did you do, use some of that hocus pocus of yours to put the blame on Dudley?"

"No." Harry shook his head, his face white, as he took a step back. "I swear, we didn't do anything!"

"Don't lie to me!" Vernon shook his finger in Harry's face, the keys in his hands jingling precariously close to his eye. "You stole that money from my wallet didn't you? So help me, there's going to be hell to pay when I get back, you shitty little thieves!"

"I believe there are video tapes exonerating us," Severus interjected, pulling Harry out of Vernon's reach. "I suggest you watch them."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You tampered with them with your hocus pocus, didn't you?"

"Magic doesn't interact well with electronics. So no."

"Humph, more lies! I don't have time for this. I'll deal with you two when I get back." Vernon turned towards the door. "You're to stay in your room. I hope you had your fill at that restaurant, as it'll be the last you'll be getting 'til school starts back up!"

The fat man stormed out the door. Harry peaked out the window, watching as Vernon angrily got into the car and sped off, his face, white as a sheet. "Let's go to your house."

Severus silently studied Harry for a moment. "Do you believe our safety to be in peril?"

"Hunh?"

"Will your relatives try to beat or starve us?"

"He might spank us, with the belt. I'm not worried about that though."

"Then what?"

"He might ground us." Harry pointed to the stair cupboard door. The door was innocuous, barely noticeable except for a lock latch dangling on the outside. Back then, he hadn't given it much thought

Severus furrowed his brow. He recalled his first day here, how he found the boy on a camping cot in the cupboard. He caught vague feelings of darkness, loneness, and hunger from the boy. The memories floated across their budding bond, unsolicited and unwanted. "Get me a screwdriver."

"Hunh?"

"Go get one."

Severus opened the door. The cot was still there, folded in the dusty corner. The vacuum, brooms, mop and several buckets sat in its place. Crayon marks colored the walls and several childish pictures were tacked to the wall. He pulled one off. It was quite good, of a smiling red and green spider on a purple web. The name 'Harry Potter' was scrawled at the bottom, the 'y' and 'P' backwards.

"Here's it is," Harry said. "Whatcha gonna do?"

It took a bit of effort with his childish fingers, but he was able to undo the screws holding the lock to the door. It'd still latch shut, but wouldn't lock from the outside anymore. "Go grab some tins of soup, the old ones in the back of the cupboard. The jar of peanut butter too. Take them to your room. Don't forget an opener and a few bowls and spoons. Put them in the wardrobe."

Severus grabbed several bags of crisps, a package of biscuits, a box of crackers, and followed Harry up the steps.

"Will this be enough to last us until school starts again?"

"This is for mid-day snacks. We'll be eating meals with the Durleys." The food wasn't to stave off hunger, but to make the boy feel better about the situation. He also hadn't missed the longing looks Harry gave his cousin's sugary snacks.

"But Uncle Vernon said-"

"Do I look like I care what your uncle says?" Severus doubted Vernon would make good on his threat to starve them. Petunia on the other hand, could get quite nasty.

"No," Harry shook his head, taken aback at the anger in the other boy's voice. "But I don't understand why we can't take the portkey to your house and live there. We can run away. You can teach me magic there. I bet you're smart enough to be a school teacher."

Severus sighed. As much as he hated the dilapidated hovel on Spinner's End, he'd rather be there too. "The portkey is for emergencies only. For now we must stay here, in this house. Put the snacks away."

With a huff, Harry stomped up the stairs, his arms laden with his loot. As he followed the boy up the stairs, he considered his words. This wasn't the first time Harry had mentioned running away. The boy had run off in the past, and had little doubt the boy would run off in the future without his or Hogwarts future influence.

"We must stay here for nine more months, and then you'll attend school in Scotland," Severus said. "You can endure for that long."

"That's a long ways off. Besides, what if they don't let us go?"

"We've discussed this. They have no say in it," Severus shoved the snacks into the wardrobe, behind his knapsack and their meager clothing. "You'll be attending Hogwarts in the fall."

"But what if I don't get in? What if you have to go without me?" Another thought crept into Harry's mind and Severus felt the fear float across the bond, falling short of panic. "What if I go but my teachers find out that I don't have enough magic and they send me home, without you?"

"Your anxiety is misplaced." Severus said absently has he turned his attention to the bars on their window.

"But I can't do magic like you."

"Don't be absurd. You're a wizard." It was likely the boy would grow into an incredibly strong wizard if his accidental magic was any indication. "You possess magic. You simply need to learn to utilize it. Magic isn't taught to young children as they generally lack the mental discipline and focus to utilize wands."

"But what about you? You already know how to do magic. You belong at some university so you can learn how to be a scientist."

"I belong in the Wizarding world with you." Severus studied the fasteners holding the bars to the window. They appeared to be undersized screws drilled into the siding. A good kick would be enough to dislodge the bars. He wasn't sure if his child-sized body would be strong enough though. However, his arms were small enough to fit through the bars with a screwdriver.

"You could go to that fancy muggle school and teach me magic on the weekends," Harry suggested as he pulled a cookie out of a one of the packages of snacks.

"No. There's nothing at that school I can't learn from books. You're going to Hogwarts and I'm following you there. That's final."

* * *

The Dursleys didn't get home until late last night. Harry had fallen asleep, but Severus heard them come home. He heard muffled angry voices down stairs. The two adults sounded like they were arguing, and the boy was sobbing. After a while, he heard Dudley stomp to his room. Soon after, the adults followed.

The sound of someone trying to turn the doorknob drifted up from the dark. Severus grabbed his wand, body tensing. He placed a wandless sticking charm on the door, but didn't know if it'd hold against Vernon's bulk. The sound shifted to a scraping thump. As quickly as it started, the sound ended and Vernon's heavy footsteps receded down the hall. He didn't relax until he heard his bedroom door shut.

He shut his eyes, but couldn't sleep. Thoughts of Harry locked in a cupboard, hungry, keeping him awake until late.

* * *

"Stevie!"

Severus rolled over and cracked an eyelid. It was bright out, but still early. He shut his eye again and began drifting off.

"Stevie! Wake up," Harry impatiently called. "The door's stuck and I gotta pee!"

Severus grumbled.

"Can you open it?"

Still half asleep, he stumbled out of bed and towards the door. He undid the sticking charm. The nob turned, and the door rattled in the jamb, but stayed stubbornly shut.

"They found a way to lock us in," Harry said, dejected.

A bit more awake, Severus lay on the floor and looked through the slit at the bottom of the door. He didn't see anything. "I'm guessing they tethered the knob to something so the door won't pull open."

"Can't you magic the door open?"

"Without using my wand? On something I can't see?" Severus thought for a moment. That would take a focused severing charm. The ministry and deatheaters would definitely detect such wanded magic. They'd likely dismiss it as accidental magic, but it'd still raise some eyebrows. "Perhaps, though I doubt it."

"Oh," Harry said disappointed.

"We may have to kick the bars off the window and climb down to the fence."

"We're gonna have to do it soon." Harry wiggled uncomfortably. "I have to go soon or I'll pee my pants."

"Get dressed. I'll give it a try."

As Harry pulled his clothes on, Severus wrapped his hands around the doorknob and gathered his magic. He focused a wandless cutting charm at the knob, where he thought the tether was.

"That makes the hairs on my arm stand," Harry observed. "It's sort of tingly. I've never noticed."

"You're becoming attuned to my magic," Severus absently noted before trying the charm again, and then again. Sweat moistened the fringe of his bangs by the time he felt the charm sever something. He was able to pull the door open.

"Thanks Stevie!" Harry rushed past Severus as he ran towards the bathroom.

Severus picked the nylon cord tethering the door shut off the floor, a scowl fixed on his face. Had it been any thicker he doubted he would have been able to cut the door open.

* * *

"—that in addition to the lawsuit? Now Pet, where will we find an affordable solicitor on Christmas week? What about your plans for getting Dudley into Cambridge?"

"Dudley's a talented boy and will get into a good University on his own. Cambridge's over rated and filled with liberal hippy snobs anyway," Petunia sniffed. "No. I don't care how much it costs! We'll just have to pay a bit extra for a solicitor now."

"Pet, please, be reasonable. After Boxing Day or New Year's I'll consult the company solicitor. The legal department—"

Severus crept closer to the kitchen door, silently keeping to the shadows. The three were sitting around the table. Dudley was stuffing his face with breakfast, and Petunia was paging through a phone book.

"No!" Petunia turned a page in the phone book. "If we're going to do this we'll need a solicitor, and I want that brat—"

Severus bit back a curse. Before she could finish the sentence, Petunia's head snapped up as she heard Harry stomp into the kitchen.

"What have I told you about lurking in doorways, snooping?" Vernon grumbled.

"I don't believe you've ever broached the subject with me," Severus grumbled as he tossed the tangled mass of cut cord onto the table. Vernon and Petunia shared a look with each other, a silent conversation he wasn't privy to.

"You two are to stay in that room," Petunia said. Her eyes were red and puffy. Clearly she had been crying over her son. Vernon's face was red, flushed with anger.

"We shall return there after breakfast." He grabbed the coffee pot and searched for his usual mug. It wasn't there. Clearly, they had planned on keeping them up there through breakfast, at least, if not longer. He pulled out some bowls and the cereal. Harry grabbed the last of the bacon and eggs before Dudley could snatch it up. "We'll be back down for lunch and supper."

"You know Pet, Boxing Day is coming up and the garage needs to be cleaned out. It'd be nice to be able to park my car in there."

She thought about it for a moment. "I don't know if they can be trusted not to get into trouble."

"Would you prefer them in the house all day?"

Petunia glared at the two boys as she considered the possibility. "You're to clean the garage. Go through the boxes and get them ready for donation. I'll gather more of Dudley's outgrown clothing and toys for you to box up. Take anything that can't be donated to the curb. Newspapers are to be bundled for recycling. Soda cans too."

"I'd rather stay grounded in my room, thanks," Harry quipped.

"You'll do as your aunt tells you!" Vernon snapped, the vein in his temple bulging. "You're skating on thin ice. I don't want to see either of you while we find a solicitor!"

"What do you need one of those for?"

"Mum wants to sue the store and—" Dudley began before Petunia cut him off, interrupting.

"We've taken you in, fed you, and given you a bed to sleep in, and this is how you repay my generosity? You should be ashamed of yourselves, for what you've done to Dudley!" Petunia sobbed, tears glinting in her eyes. "Vernon, I can't do this anymore! I want that horrible boy out of my home! Let his no good father deal with him! I bet he's still on Spinner's End, living on the dole like his father, if he didn't get himself thrown in prison or blown up that is!"

"You can't do that! Stevie has to stay!" Harry shouted. "If he goes, I go too!"

"That can be happily arranged!" Petunia snapped. "Don't push your luck!"

"Calm yourself, Potter." The hair stood on the back of Severus's neck, thoughts of collapsing wards sending a chill through him. "We'll clean the garage."

What if Petunia decided Harry was no longer welcome in her house during the middle of the night? The wards could fall as he slept, allowing the Deatheaters in. He resisted the urge to pull out his wand and use it to threaten Petunia. She had to accept Harry into her home of her own free will. Vernon on the other hand was under no such restrictions. He could threaten and manipulate him as needed, and hope he could persuade his wife.

"But it's not fair!" Harry protested. "Stevie didn't do anything! She can't just kick him out—"

"You'll find that we can do exactly that!" Vernon bellowed.

"I did it!" Harry changed tactics, lying to his relatives. "I did it all! Stevie didn't know what I was doing."

Severus turned to glare at Harry, but said nothing.

"I stole the money to eat at the buffet. I found it in your trouser pocket while doing the laundry and kept it instead of giving it back," Harry pressed on. "I also stole the video games and CDs and got caught. I was scared so I told them that Dudley did it. I used my freakiness to make them believe my lies. Stevie tried to stop me."

"Why did you do this to me, Harry?" Dudley asked with a smirk. "You hurt my feelings."

"I, um, er, well, I was jealous of you," Harry stammered. It was obvious to Severus that both boys were lying. He'd never let any of his Slytherins get away with such an obvious fib. "I wanted to play video games on your console and listen to music on your stereo."

Dudley's smirk deepened.

"How many times have I told you not to touch Dudley's things?" Petunia asked before turning her attention to Vernon. "See! That horrible boy is a bad influence on him. He's gone from climbing up onto the school to shoplifting and vandalism! He stole from us, Vernon! What's next? Drugs?"

"That's not-" Harry began, but Petunia cut him off. His attempt to refocus their ire from Stevie to himself worked, but not in the way he hoped.

"I told you something like this would happen! We've given the boy too much leeway, and now he's running amuck!" Petunia continued. "He can only get worse with that boy's influence! A delinquent record can keep Dudley from Smeltings! Had the constable not convinced them not to press charges he have a record!"

"But—" Harry tried to interject but Petunia wasn't finished.

"It's only luck that the constable lives down the street and knows what a good boy Dudley is, and what a horrid brat you are!" Petunia shouted at Harry then turned to her husband. "Next time those two pull this crap we may not be so lucky! What if Dudley gets more than an undeserved slap on the wrist?"

"But—"

"Not another word, from either of you!" Vernon said. "Finish your breakfast, both of you. You're to stay out there all day."

"Yes Uncle Vernon," Harry glumly conceded as he turned back to his breakfast.

"Might I suggest 'Hewitt and Son Family Law' if you're looking for a solicitor," Severus dryly recommended, naming the cheesy legal firm advertised on the bus stop bench next to the library. He pushed his empty cereal bowl aside and downed the last of his coffee. "The firm may suit your needs."

Vernon suspiciously squinted at Severus, not sure what to make of the advice.

"Of course Dumbledore—" Severus tried to continue.

"Do not say his name in my house!" Petunia shrieked. "You two will go to the garage. You will clean it, and you will stay there while we decide what to do with you!"

"And you!" Petunia focused her ire on Vernon. "You'll fix that lock on their door! I don't need those two running amuck when they should be grounded in their room!"

* * *

"Is your father in jail?" Harry asked as he surveyed the messy garage, deciding how to start.

"No. I told you he died some time ago," Severus opened the nearest cardboard box. It was filled with broken plastic toys.

"Then why does Aunt Petunia think he is?"

"She's mistaken about my identity."

"When you first got here, Dumbledore said he was alive." Harry scrunched his forehead in confusion, thinking back. "He called him stranged."

"Estranged, and Professor Dumbledore lied." Severus closed the box back up. Nothing in the box was worth donating.

"Why would he lie about that? Why lie at all?" Harry thought about it a few seconds longer. "Stevie isn't your real name either. You're under a disguise, aren't you?"

"Yes," Severus answered, surprised Harry hadn't come to the obvious conclusion sooner.

"Did you use magic to change what you look like? Or is it just your name that's different?"

"I altered my eye color. My nose looks smaller, but I believe that's because it had been broken several times. Stephen Prince would have been my name had my mother followed wizarding traditions and named me after my closest male magical relative. I occasionally use it as a pseudonym."

"A what?"

"An alias."

Harry's expression remained blank.

"An alternate identity." Severus sighed. "A fake name."

"If you're trying to hide, wouldn't it be better to use a different name?"

"No. In our world, it is not a simple matter to change your appearance due to your magical signature. Potions and charms may alter appearance, but can be broken. The ritual we performed on Samhain masked my magic slightly by mixing some of yours to it, but only when I'm wearing the ring. Even then, someone who knows me will recognize it, or more likely, assume me to be a close relative. This assumption will be strengthened by the name."

Severus was disguised as his own son or sibling. His former Deatheater associates would assume his mother had a second child before she died. Those that knew him personally would assume him to be an illegitimate son, named for his grandfather according to wizarding traditions.

Harry only understood half of that. "What color are they?"

"Color?" Severus asked confused. Wasn't the boy going to ask the obvious question, 'why are you disguised?'

"Yeah, your eyes. What color are they?"

"Black, sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Most dark eyes are shades of brown. Mine are grey, dark enough to appear black in most lighting. As a disguise, I simply lightened the pigment with a potion."

"How'd you break your nose?"

"The first time a schoolyard bully punched me. I broke it again later, in another fight. Then a third time in a potions accident."

"I can't imagine you with black eyes and a big honking nose," Harry giggled. "It'd make you look even grumpier."

Severus sighed. "Put this box in a pile for the curb."

The boy knew bits and pieces of his past, but had yet to put the pieces together. On a conscious level Harry didn't realize he was a thirty-something Deatheater. If he didn't work it out before Hogwarts it'd fall to him to tell the boy. Of course, some secrets he'd never share with the boy.

It'd be pointless to lie, as he'd sense it through their fledgling bond. Thankfully, the boy also sensed that Severus could be trusted and took his word at face value.

"Do you think this will take all day?" Harry asked skeptically.

"No." The small garage was disorganized and cluttered, but it likely wouldn't take them all day to clean. "Your relatives simply want us out of the house."

"It's cold in here."

"You'll be fine." Surry's winter weather was rarely cold enough to snow, but it was wet and chilly. The garage was unheated, but it wasn't too bad. "Zip up your jacket."

"I don't want to stay out here all day."

"It may be best to allow your relatives time and space to cool down."

"Uncle Vernon might calm down today, but Aunt Petunia will stay mad. She'll stay mad until she does something to us to get even."

"Do you know what that'll be?"

"No, but it sounds like she wants to send you away." Severus felt anxiety roll off of Harry in waves. He suspected the boy was picking up on his own worry, compounding the anxiety.

"Do not concern yourself over it." So far her ire was focused on him. He'd have to keep it focused on him until it dissipated. He couldn't risk the wards.

She might not have wanted her nephew, taking him in reluctantly, but she did so of her own free will. It was enough for the wards. By that same token, that reluctance could weaken them. Perhaps that was why the ward boundaries didn't extend as far as they should.


	14. Christmas Day

Chapter Thirteen

Christmas Day

* * *

Banging on the door woke the boys up early Christmas morning.

"Up!" Vernon bellowed as he pounded on the door. Bang. Bang. The knob rattled. "Open this door! Now!"

Reluctantly, Severus crawled out of bed and undid the sticking charm on the door. It was still dark out, too early for anything. "What?"

"Don't take that tone with me, boy! You're to stay in this room today." Vernon grumbled as he shoved a box of cereal and a nearly empty jug of milk at Severus. He gestured towards the newly replaced deadbolt lock on the door. "Don't make me lock you in."

"What about lunch and supper?"

"I'll bring the food to you two, if you stay put. Count yourselves lucky you're getting anything at all. After what you two pulled the other day you don't deserve our generosity."

"You have my apologies for that," Severus conceded. Vernon missed it, but Harry caught a dangerous glint in the other boy's eyes. Ever since he started taking his medication Stevie's mood swings were calmer, but it didn't make him any less vindictive. The older boy was planning something.

"I'm going to enjoy Christmas with my family. You're going to stay up here, pretending not to exist!"

"Bring us our meals and I'll see to it you're left undisturbed."

The instant the door shut, Severus pulled out his rucksack. From within he pulled out his magical hotplate, a small cauldron, and several jars.

"Are you gonna make a potion?" Harry asked the obvious, and then gasped as a thought occurred to him. "You aren't going to poison Dudley, are you?"

"Tempting, but no." He pulled out several dried-up yucky looking brown things from a jar and threw them into the pot. "Just an experiment."

An experiment didn't sound any better than poison. "Is it related to the potion you're inventing?"

"Yes."

"Will it even work on them?"

"Potions generally work on squibs. They have limited amounts of magic but are unable to access it. I suspect your aunt and cousin are such individuals. Your uncle displays limited knowledge of the magical community, so he may be one as well."

"He does?"

"His irrational fear of magic suggests a previous exposure to our world, perhaps in his youth. Several months ago he saw my wand. He knew what it was and what it could do to him. He feared it." Severus threw a pinch of something that looked like moth wings into the pot.

"When was that? I don't remember."

"You had jumped in front of his moving fist and had been knocked senseless at the time." Severus set the cauldron on the magical hotplate. "Before you start eating I'll need you to get me about 15 ounces of water."

"Hunh? How much is that?"

"A little less than half a liter," Severus amended. He gestured to a large plastic cup. "Rinse that out and fill it with water from the tap in the bathroom."

Harry got the water and Severus poured it into the cauldron.

"Doesn't it instantly boil?"

"Not this time. I don't know how that bit of magic will interact with this potion," Severs stirred the pot three times with a wooden stick. "Eat your breakfast. We will have to wait for it to heat and then simmer. After, I'll add the final ingredient. It'll be ready this afternoon."

"What will it do?" Harry poured himself a bowl of the icky cereal he hated and sat in the desk chair. "Will it hurt him?"

"We shall find out, won't we?" He nastily said. "The little shit deserves it, after what he did to us."

Harry froze, his spoon half way to his mouth. He stared at Severus, his eyes big. As much as he didn't like the bully, he didn't want to see him hurt.

"The shrivelfigs I used have been known to cause gastric distress in squibs and muggles," Severus explained as he poured his own bowl of cereal. "Doxy wings have been used as a pubic hair depilatory. Uncomfortable but hardly deadly."

Harry blinked, not sure if he understood.

"It won't harm your cousin. If it does I may administer a purging potion," Severus sighed. "the primary ingredient I'll be testing isn't generally used in potions, but is nontoxic. Muggles take it as an herbal supplement."

"Oh," Harry said. "If it works, will your potion be done?"

"No. This is a preliminary experiment to determine the compatibility of saint john's wort with common potion ingredients," Severus lectured, unconsciously falling into the role of professor. "A first step. This potion is likely to do nothing but give him gastric issues."

Harry stared at Snape, not understanding.

"Diarrhea, gas, bloating, and perhaps mild stomach cramps," he sighed. He'd have to work on the boy's vocabulary. "His body hair may fall out, though he's a bit young for that to be noticeable."

"How are you gonna get them to take it?"

"I'll need your help with that," Severus said as he finished his bowl of cereal. As expected, Harry brightened at the prospect of 'helping.' "It'll need to be slipped into Dudley's drink."

"Will it have a strong taste? How much do I put in?" Harry finished his own breakfast, and then drank the remaining milk from his bowl. He made a face at the taste of the skim milk.

"A teaspoon. The shrivelfigs should impart a mild bittersweet flavor."

"He drinks soda all day. I can put it in that."

"I don't believe the sugar or caffeine will interact with the doxy wings or herb. That should do." Severus neglected to mention that the caffeine was likely to amplify the diarrheal effects of the shrivelfigs.

Harry's response was cut short by Petunia's shrill scream. Seconds later, Vernon barged into the room. His face red and his left eye twitched. "I don't know what you two are trying to pull! Go get them!"

"What?" Harry asked confused. "Go get what?"

"The packages under the tree!"

"Packages? You mean like Christmas presents?" Harry looked at Severus, who appeared equally mystified. Severus couldn't miss the hopeful tone in the boy's voice. "Under the tree, for us?"

"Go get them, now!" Vernon shouted. "I don't want to see them!"

Not needing to be told twice, Harry raced downstairs. The smell of cooking bacon wafted from the kitchen and the living room was littered with wrapping paper and piles of Dudley's new things. And sure enough, under the tree, there were several packages, wrapped in red and green paper. They even had Stevie and Harry's names on them. With a smile Harry scooped them into his arms. Before the Dursley's could change their minds and take them away, he raced back upstairs with his loot.

"Who do you think sent these?" Harry asked, dropping the packages on the bed.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, no doubt," has he studied the packages. He couldn't feel only the faint trace of Dumbledore's magic. He watched as Harry grabbed a package with his name on it without hesitation. He'd have to tech the boy to be wary of suspicious packages.

Harry ripped open one present to find brightly colored socks, mittens, a scarf and hat. Several big bars of chocolate fell out too. Severus's held the same, but all of his socks were bright red trimmed in gold. Harry sensed it was some kind of joke, but didn't get it. The third package was for Harry. It contained a shimmery bit of fabric. Harry pulled it free from the paper and a not fell out.

"Dear Harry," he read aloud. "Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time for it to be returned to its rightful owner. Use it well."

"That damned fool," Severus sighed, irritated. He hated that cloak.

"What is it?"

"An invisibility cloak."

"Will it turn me invisible?"

The boy was incredibly dense. He pointed towards the mirror. Severus rolled his eyes. "Go find out."

Harry put the cloak on, and sure enough, he disappeared. Maybe because it was due to their fledging bond, but Severus found that he knew Harry was there. He couldn't pinpoint the boy's exact location, but had a sense of the boy's presence.

The boy moved about the room and Severus found he could follow the boy's footprints on the carpet, the movement of air, the sound of his excited breathing, and the opening of the wardrobe. He'd have to teach the boy stealth.

"I have something for you too," Harry announce as he pulled something out of the wardrobe. He took the hood of his cloak off, and Harry's disembodied head floated eerily about the room.

The small package was childishly wrapped in paper Harry colored himself with crayons. He hadn't thought of giving the boy a present, and had assumed the boy knew this. After all, he had told the boy that he didn't put much stock in such nonsense some weeks ago.

Inside the wrapping paper were several of the small art projects he'd seen about Harry's classroom.

Every week when you go see the specialist the rest of the class make crafts. The other kids give the stuff they make to their parents, but Aunt Petunia told me to stop," Harry explained. He was trying to hide it with nonchalance, but the boy looked nervous and hopeful for some reason. "I'll understand if you don't want them. They're not as nice as something that could be bought at a store."

The boy had put a lot of time and effort into his the little ceramic figurines and decorated photo frame. Like the picture of the spider he found in the cupboard under the stairs, they displayed a bit of artistic talent. Sadly, it was a talent that had little practical applications. What good were pretty pictures when facing the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters?

He looked at Harry, studying his face. The boy looked at him, hopefully, waiting for his reaction.

"Thank you. They're very nice." Severus had no use for sentimental drivel and less use for such trinkets. He wasn't sure what to do with them, but they were important to the boy. "Clear off the shelf above the desk. Throw the bulldog figurines in the bin and put these up there for me."

Apparently that was the answer Harry was looking for. He beamed with pride as he set the trinkets on the little shelf.

"This too," Severus folded the wrapping paper. "Put the figurines on this."

* * *

Severus Snape hid under James Potter's invisibility cloak with his son. The man was rolling in his grave. The thought put a rare smile on his face. Using Petunia's son as a guinea pig in his experiments was the proverbial icing on the cake, making this a very good day indeed.

Pouring a potion into Dudley's soda evolved into a practical lesson for Harry in the art of stealth. He had the boy practice silent footfalls. They did some breathing exercises to quiet his breaths. Severus even showed the boy how to move without disturbing the air.

He handed the vial to the boy as a final test of the exercise. Pouring a potion into a can of Coke should be a simple task, especially if he provided a small distraction. As the lessons progressed, he planned on having the boy do this without the aid of a cloak or without distraction.

As it turned out, the boy proved to be a natural in stealth. The boy tip-toed to the dinner table and smoothly poured the potion into a can of coke. Had the Dursley's been watching they'd see a disembodied hand, but they were distracted by Vernon's wineglass tipping onto the table.

They stayed in the dining room long enough to watch Dudley take a swig of soda. As expected, nothing immediate happened, or at least to the casual observer. The boy didn't even seem to notice the taste. He poked Harry in the ribs, silently signaling that they were done. They made their way into the kitchen for the second part of the exercise: pillaging Christmas dinner.

As silently as a ten year old could, Harry loaded mashed potatoes, turkey, gravy, stuffing, and a green bean casserole into two Tupperware containers. The jar of peanut butter and stale bread Vernon provided was forgotten.

* * *

"The potion looked like didn't work," Harry said as he stuffed turkey into his mouth with gusto.

"The effects will not be immediately noticeable," Severus tasted the turkey gravy. It was salty and oddly sweet. Did Petunia put sugar in the gravy? He didn't care for it. "Given the girth of your uncle and cousin I would have thought your aunt would be a better cook."

"They're not picky eaters."

"Apparently, neither are you," Severus muttered.

"Hunh?" Harry said around a mouthful of turkey.

"The food in his stomach will have slowed the absorption of the potion." Severus continued. Had he not been so hungry he wouldn't have eaten the weirdly sweetened food. "I imagine your cousin's stomach may begin to feel queasy in an hour or so."

Harry studied the older boy. The vindictive glee was practically oozing off him.

"You're excited to see what will happen to Dudley, aren't you?"

"Academic curiosity, nothing more." For the first time in several days, Severus mood had cheered. He'd never admit his good mood out loud though.

"Right. Curiosity."

"The only way to know how novel ingredient combinations will react is to test it on a human subject. I'd prefer not to test it on myself. Thus, curiosity."

"But you already knew it'd give him an upset stomach," Harry reasoned, feeling a bit guilty. "You just want to get even with Dudley."

"I strongly suspect what will happen," he responded, ignoring the accusation of vengeance. There was no point in denying it. "But do not know for sure."

"What if you test it on me instead?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Are you familiar with the concept of?"

"No."

"Then there's your answer," Severus smirked. "A double-blind study."

* * *

It started shortly after Dudley ate his pudding.

"Mummy, I don't feel so good." Dudley looked down at his pudding. Was that a hair in it? There were several more hairs on the white tablecloth next to his bowl.

"Do you have a tummy ache, sweetums?"

"I feel icky." Dudley's stomach rumbled ominously. He wiggled in his chair for a bit before breaking wind.

"That a boy!" Vernon proudly cheered his son as Petunia grimaced. "Feel better?"

"No." Sweat began to break out on his pudgy forehead. "I think I have to do it again."

* * *

Severus smirked as he heard Dudley rush down the hall to the bathroom. By the time the boy emerged, patches of his hair had fallen out.


	15. Legal Separation

Chapter Fourteen

Legal Separation

* * *

The doctors had no clear explanation for Dudley's sudden baldness and upset tummy. A condition called alopecia areata was considered, before the diagnosis settled on psychological distress. Stress due to the trauma of being arrested was to be blamed, no doubt.

The boy in question glumly ate his breakfast. A ball cap didn't quite hide the bald patches, which were thankfully beginning to grow back.

Petunia glared at the other two boys over her cup of tea. She pursed her lips distantly as Harry poured himself a bowl of her high fiber cereal and skim milk. The longing look the boy gave Dudley's bacon and eggs almost made the loss of her cereal worth the annoyance of having to buy extra. The other boy, the nasty one, negated her satisfaction though.

What kind of ten year old appreciated dietary roughage? Or was the boy eleven now? She didn't care to learn when the boy's birthday was.

She pushed the thought out of her mind. If things went well the boy wouldn't be her problem.

"I have an appointment this afternoon to keep. I may be late in picking you up from school, sweetums," Petunia announced. "You don't mind playing at the play park for bit, do you? No more than an hour."

"I don't want to go to school, mummy," Dudley whined. "My hair looks funny and the other kids might laugh at me."

"Nonsense!" Vernon piped up from behind the sports section of the newspaper. "Tell them it's the creep's fault. If they still laugh, punch them. It'll toughen you up and help get rid of the pent up stress. Very therapeutic."

"I guess," Dudley brightened a bit at the prospect of having free reign to punch other kids—not that he was under much restraint to begin with.

"That won't be necessary dear. Keep your cap on and no one will notice. I'll write you a note, so the teachers can't make you take it off during class."

"I want to stay home 'til my hair grows back."

"Not today. We have several important appointments to see to." Petunia glanced at the other two boys. Normally she'd indulge Dudley's every whim, but not now. "Your father and I are going to see the solicitor today."

"So? I can stay here by myself and watch the telly."

"The doctor says staying to normal routines such as school will help reduce stress. If the other kids are mean, you can stay home tomorrow," Petunia cajoled. "And if the meeting goes well the solicitor will want to meet with you, so you can tell him what happened. You can stay home then too. When this is over we'll have the money to go on a nice relaxing holiday. Won't that be fun?"

"Not if those two have to go too." He looked at Severus. "Especially him."

"Hey! That's not nice-" Harry began, but quieted his defense when he felt the older boy kick him under the table.

"Don't worry about him deer," Petunia smirked nastily. "They won't be going."

* * *

Severus sat at his normal spot at the timeout wall during lunch break, book in hand, as Harry played on the nearby playground.

Every day it was the same. Harry would ask him to play and he'd refuse. Disappointed, Harry would pout nearby, but then quickly become bored and fidget. Within five minutes he'd be so irritated that he'd banish the boy to the playground. Harry usually didn't stray far, the two keeping an eye on each other.

Severus glanced up from his book, expecting to see Harry on the swings, or perhaps on the monkey bars. Dudley was nowhere to be seen as well. Quickly, he glanced towards the two teachers tasked with supervising the playground. They were busy, tending to a girl with a bloody nose and scraped knee.

Severus set his book aside and stood. Scanning the playground again, looking for Harry. He didn't see him, but noted several children looking towards the basketball court, around the corner from the timeout wall.

"Crap," he whispered to himself. Feelings of dread wared with irritation, competing for dominance. The irritation won out.

He rounded the corner in time to see Dudley miss a punch aimed at Harry's face. Before the fat boy could recover, Harry nocked Dudley's hat off his head, exposing the patchy baldness. The feeling of irritation morphed into dread as the children pointed and laughed, and Dudley's face morphed into embarrassed anger. With nowhere to run, Dudley punched the cornered boy in the stomach.

Harry doubled over and Dudley pushed the smaller boy to the ground.

Severus ran towards the fight, but not before Dudley landed two solid kicks to the smaller boy's ribs. Unnoticed, Severus rushed in behind the bully and landed a precise punch to Dudley's kidney. Dudley turned and attempted to throw another punch at Severus. With practiced ease, Severus caught the fist and used the boy's own momentum to wrench the arm to an unnatural angle. With his other fist, he punched the boy's temple, the hit landing precise and true.

Within a second, it was over. The second hit stunned out Dudley, and the bigger boy fell to the ground. He wasn't unconscious, but not quite coherent either.

"You okay?" Severus turned to see Harry vomit his lunch, clutching his abused stomach. With a critical eye, the scanned the boy, deciding there was no permanent damage.

"Yeah, thanks."

"What were you thinking, you little dunderhead?" Severus relief changed to anger. "I told you not to provoke him!"

"I didn't!" A shrill whistle sounded. Both boys looked up to see one of the teachers rounding the corner, spotting the altercation.

"And I suppose he decide to punch you on his own? Or that he would have done this in view of the teachers?"

"What did you do?" The teacher asked, her tone accusatory rather than inquisitive as she bent down to Dudley. "You know he has a medical condition!"

"I feel stressed," Dudley moaned, still on the ground. "Stevie attacked me, now I feel stressed out."

"Dudders was minding his own business when Harry came up behind him and knocked his hat off," one of Dudley's friends said with a smirk. "Then Stevie came up from another direction and punched him in the back, then face."

"That's not true!" Harry indignantly shouted. "Dudley punched at me first! I was defended myself by nocking his hat off! He then punched me in the stomach!"

"Your aunt warned me that you might try something like this! I didn't believe her until now!"

"I—" Harry attempted.

"Save it! Go stand at the wall until I decide what to do with you!"

"But—"

"Go! Now! Both of you!"

Harry hesitated, but Severus pulled him along with him.

"It's not fair! We didn't do anything but defend ourselves!"

"Life isn't fair, Potter," Severus lectured. "Her mind is made up regarding our behavior. Your protests will do nothing to convince her otherwise. Protests do nothing but reinforce preconceived misconceptions. Sometimes the best thing to do is to retreat and plan your next move."

"No, the best thing to do is to stand up for ourselves! You always want to give up without a fight! If you keep giving up every time he picks on us, he'll keep bullying us!" Harry argued. "You always want to quit and think about your next move! The only thing bully's like them understand is fighting!"

Severus paused. He could see that they had very different approached to the same situation, and probably would never agree. However, when it came to Dudley, the boy was probably right. Dudley would never appreciate the nuance of strategy, but he'd understand the pain that comes with a black eye.

"How do you think we should proceed?" Severus asked, swallowing his pride and asking the boy for his opinion. Perhaps he could use this as an opportunity to teach the boy tact and strategy.

"We need to convince the teachers of the truth."

"How do you suggest we do that?"

"We just tell her."

Severus snorted. "Not likely."

"But we have to—"

"No."

"I don't understand," Harry continued to argue, not realizing he was proving his point. "If we just tell her the truth then she'll realize she's wrong."

"It's human nature to resist being told your beliefs are wrong." As a Slytherin, he knew this well. "The more we argue against her preconceived notions the more she may resist.

"Like how aunt Petunia won't believe Dudley is anything less than perfect?"

"Exactly. Religious organizations commonly exploit this flaw."

"Isn't that the same as faith?" Harry thought about this for a moment. "Isn't faith supposed to be a strength?"

"Only to a brainless Hufflepuff."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. We'll have to maneuver her into seeing the truth on her own."

Harry thought about it for a moment. "We first express our concern over Dudley, get on her good side."

"Good," Severus warily watched the gathering crowd around Dudley with irritation, splitting his attention. "Then what?"

"We get her sympathy, maybe ask to see the school nurse."

Severus's attention snapped back to Harry. "What for?"

Harry lifted up his shirt, exposing several bruises blossoming on his ribs and stomach.

Severus fought back the urge to suck in a breath of shocked concern. He hadn't realized Dudley hit him that hard. "Hold your shirt up, stay still."

Expertly he felt along the boy's ribs. Nothing felt broken, but it was possible a few were fractured.

"I feel a bit sick, it hurts to take a deep breath, but I'll be okay. My knees and elbow hurt worse."

"As the swelling progresses the pain will get worse."

"Will it help convince her?"

"It can't hurt. The skinned knee and elbow may imply you were on the ground when you sustained injuries. We don't have a way show who threw the first punch."

"I don't think any of the other kids will help," Harry said glumly. "They either hate us or are scared of Dudley, or both."

Harry glared, but before he could reply a teacher angrily stalked up to the two boys. Behind her, another teacher guided a whining Dudley to the building, presumably to the nurse.

"What is wrong with you two? Picking fights with a boy with a medical condition?" She glared at the pair. "Well? What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"Will Dudley be all right ma'am?" Severus asked, his face a mask of earnest concern.

"Yeah, he's not hurt is he?" Harry piped up. Severus inwardly cringed. The boy didn't sound very convincing.

"He'll be fine," She answered, not sure what to make of the boy's concern, fake or otherwise. "Just to be sure, he'll be checked over by the nurse."

"May I see her too?"

"Whatever for?"

Harry lifted his shirt up. "I think Dudley may have broken one of my ribs when he kicked me."

The teacher's eyes widened and her lips pressed into a thin line. Severus could see the cogs turning in her mind.

"I apologize for the altercation, but Dudley was aiming a kick towards Harry's head. It was the most expedient way to divert his attention."

The woman blinked. "I'm not the one you need to apologize to!"

"Of course ma'am." Severus hung his head. "I'll apologize to him at the earliest opportunity."

"Damn right you will!" She turned back to Harry, grabbing his arm. "You've been warned not to start fights with your cousin."

"But he started it!"

"You also been warned about lying!" She pulled him towards the school, presumably to the nurse's office. "Twenty of your classmates say you threw a punch at Dudley's face."

"But I didn't! I just knocked his cap off!"

"Enough! Violence is never tolerated!"

* * *

The nurse looked irritated. "You'll be fine."

"It hurts!" Dudley wined. "The creep tried to kill me!"

"Nonsense. I imaging you'll have a bit of bruising tomorrow. When you get home you can ask you mother for a Tylenol. For now, keep some ice on it."

"My wrist hurts now too, and I want one now! And the ice is too cold!"

"Not without parental consent," she sighed, rubbing at her temples as if trying to get rid of a headache. "I called, she's not home."

"Call her again. Tell her the creep tried to kill me, again!"

"And I suppose Harry viciously attacked you again?" She gestured at Harry. "I'm unclear how Harry sprained your arm and wrist."

"No, it was the other creep! He wrenched my arm back before he knocked me out!" Severus could see her size him up and calculate the weight difference in her mind.

"Sit in the chair Harry dear," She sighed as she made notes in a folder. "I'll clean up your knee in a moment."

"I believe he thinks his ribs are broken," the teacher said in a tone that clearly stated she thought otherwise.

"Take your shirt off then," she said without looking up from her notes.

Harry lifted his arm up, and then winced. "I can't, it hurts too much."

That caught the nurse's attention. She looked up. "Does it hurt to breathe?"

"Only if I take a deep breath, or move wrong."

"You can go back to class Dudley. Harry, can you hop up on the cot?"

"I'll try."

"But I'm still hurt!" Dudley wined.

"Out! All of you! Stevie, you too! Dudley, get up and go back to class, Harry, lay down on the cot!"

"No! I want some Tylenol, and I want to go home! I feel stressed!"

The nurse put her hand to her forehead and took a deep breath. "Jess, please take Dudley and Stevie back to class so I can examine Harry."

"Are you sure? Petunia says he has a medical condition—"

"He appears to have a mild case of hypochondriasis. It's non-infectious, and should run its course in several weeks."

"Hypo-what?" Dudley asked, his piggy eyes wide.

"Hypochondriasis." She eyed the boy critically before writing down more notes.

"Is that how my hair fell out?"

"Sure, why not," she grumbled as she finished writing something on a medical notepad and tore off the top sheet. She handed it to the Dudley. "Give these medical instructions to your mother. Keep ice on that arm for the next hour. When you get home you can have some Tylenol. As for the hypochondriasis, the best treatment is regular light exercise and a sugar-free diet. Tell her to follow up with your regular doctor."

"Okay," suddenly feeling better, Dudley got up and waddled to the door.

"Come along Stevie, Dudley."

"No!" Harry protested as he climbed onto the cot. "I want Stevie to stay."

"Everybody out! Including Stephan!"

* * *

"I didn't say anything when the Potter boy came to school with that broken arm, or every winter when he shows up without a jacket, and I didn't say anything when his aunt refused to get his vision checked for two years!" One of the other teachers said, not realizing she had an audience. "I'll be damned if I put up with it now! There's something not right with that family!"

Severus listened at the door outside the teacher's lounge. The Nurse's office door was closed, Harry still inside. Across the hall was the headmaster's office, and he waited to be called in to talk to.

"Petunia and her family seem perfectly respectable," the teacher the nurse called 'Jess' said. "The boy is a troublemaker. Remember when he climbed to the top of the school? Last year he was stealing food out of the other children's lunch boxes! He and that other boy picked a fight with Dudley."

"There's no way in hell either of those boys beat up Dudley Dursley! Have you seen them? Dudley is obese, in addition to being tall for his age. Harry Potter looks like a half-starved eight year old, and Stephen Prince can't walk ten meters without tripping over his own two left feet!"

Severus bristled at the description.

"Do you have proof?"

"You know I don't, just a hunch!"

"There's nothing you can do with a hunch. Let it go."

 _Yes, let it go_ , Severus thought to himself. The last thing he needed was for some nosy muggle to 'rescue' him and Harry from the Dursley's.

"Hemph!"

Suddenly the door to the nurse's office burst opened. The woman stormed past the teacher's lounge and barged her way into the headmaster's office.

Severus wasted no time in rejoining Harry. The boy lay on the cot, a bag if ice atop the largest of the bruises. "Well?"

"She doesn't think any of my ribs are factured. She says there's a small chance of her—hermmogoing?"

"Fractured and hemorrhaging. Had Dudley's kicks been aimed effectively that would be a concern. As it is, you'll be fine. You'll be sore for a few days."

"She says I have to stay here for a while so she can be sure."

"A bit excessive, but not too unreasonable of a precaution."

"Can't you make it all go away it with one of those yucky potions?" Severus had taken carrying first aid potions since Harry sprained his ankle last fall.

"No. Too many muggles saw the bruises. Do you want an analgesic potion?"

Harry nodded. "It hurts, and I still feel a bit sick."

Severus looked over his shoulder at the closed door across the hall. He pulled a glass vial out of his book bag. "Quickly, before she comes back."

Harry tossed back the potion and almost gagged at the taste.

"Don't throw that back up. It's the only one I have with me."

"Do you have a potion for that?"

"No," He secreted the vial back in his book bag.

"What all you got, anyway?"

"Not a lot. I've taken to carrying your cloak in the expanding pocket. A bit of emergency funds. A bezoar, a bone mender, a coagulant and blood replenisher, a strengthening potion. My wand is in the other pocket."

"What's a bezoar?"

* * *

"Do you three know why you're here?"

"I presume it is so you can pass judgement for our actions."

"Yes." The headmistress blinked. "This school has a no tolerance policy for fighting, no exceptions. You three will be suspended for the rest of the week."

"That's not fair! Dudley started it! I was defending myself!" Harry wined at the same time Dudley asked, "I get to stay home this week?"

"Harry, you threw the first blow," She said to Harry then turned to Dudley. "Dudley, you should have gone to a teacher if Harry was bullying you."

"But I didn't bully him! I just knocked his hat off because he wouldn't stop making fun of me!"

"Quiet! I don't care about your excuses!"

"But—" Harry began but stopped when Severus kicked him on the shin. "Never mind."

Dudley smirked, obviously enjoying the spectacle of Harry in trouble.

"I've called your house, but nobody seems to be home. Until someone can pick you three up, you'll sit quietly in the office." She pushed a pile of books and worksheets towards the boys. "Your teachers have given you this week's assignments. I suggest you start on them."

* * *

"You're right. They didn't care about the truth," Harry whispered as he worked on his homework. "I told them, but they only believed what they wanted."

"Of course I'm right," Severus sneered. "Maybe next time you'll listen to me."

"Your plan to convince them didn't work either," Harry indignantly shot back.

"I didn't expect it would, but it was worth a try. I believe the nurse and that other teacher are on your side if you need such trivial comfort."

"Then why didn't they say anything?"

"They had no proof, only speculation."

"Quiet, or I'll separate you two," The headmaster said from behind her desk.

* * *

"No, I'll sit next to Dudley," Severus stopped Harry from climbing into the car. "You sit next to the window."

Harry blinked. The two bigger boys usually claimed the good seats for themselves, leaving Harry squished in the middle of the back seat.

"I don't trust you not to antagonize him," Severus explained.

Harry huffed with indignity. "I don't—"

"Get the fuck into the car now!" Vernon roared form the driver's seat, his face purple and blotchy. The vein in his forehead throbbed. "If you so much as look at my son, I'll pull this car over and knock the shit out of both of you!"

Harry blinked. His uncle rarely used such language. Next to him, Severus's back stiffened. Harry didn't see it, but knew the other boy's fingers were on his wand, ready to pull it out of the secret pocket.

Severus studied Petunia. Her lips were press into an angry line. The look in her eyes made the hair on the back of his neck stand. She was up to something. Before he could slip into her mind, she turned around, breaking eye contact.

"Vexatious litigation? What does that mean anyway?" Petunia huffed as Vernon pulled the car into traffic. "You'd think he'd keep his opinions to himself, with the money we're paying him."

"Don't fret about it Pet." Vernon said. "I'll call him tomorrow and tell him what happened today. I'm sure this will be enough to speed the litigation up. The note form the nurse will surely help, and the suspension will nail it."

"What's litigation?" Harry asked.

"Never you mind," Vernon snapped. "It's none of your damn business."

"A legal action of some type," Severus answered Harry, ignoring Vernon. "I believe your relatives plan to initiate a lawsuit against the store at the mall. They now intend to utilize today's events as evidence in their favor."

"I told you to shut your trap, Poindexter!"

"They intend to monetarily profit from this lawsuit. I believe they have plans to use the revenue for holiday," Severus continued, ignoring Vernon. "As for the definition of vexing litigation—"

"That's it! One more word and you can walk back!" The threat was empty. They were passing the neighborhood playpark now.

"My apologies sir," Severus sneered, not sounding apologetic at all.

* * *

"I'm bored," Harry announced as he looked longingly out their bedroom window. Though it was the middle of winter, the sun was shining and it was unseasonably warm. "I want to play outside."

"I don't care," Severus absently said as he dug a potion out of his knapsack. "Get an early start on next week's math homework."

"Of course you don't care," Harry huffed as he watched Dudley outside in the back yard. "You don't like to have fun. You're like a stick in the mud."

"You'll put this into Dudley's soda," Severus instructed, ignoring Harry's accusations. "About a capful. Any more than that and he'll taste it."

"What is it?" Harry picked up the vial and studied the blue liquid inside. "What will it do to him?"

"Heal the bruises on his temple and shoulder. A drop or two of this potion will accelerate hair growth."

"Will it do something else to him? Something nasty?"

"The hair loss was a side effect of a novel combination of potion ingredients," Severus smirked, making no attempt to hide his pleasure at Dudley's misfortune. The boy's hair loss was worthy of further investigation. Perhaps someday he'd research it and write a paper on the subject. "This is different. It will only erase his bruises. This needs to be done before he meets with the barrister this afternoon."

"I suppose, if you promise it won't hurt him."

"You doubt my intentions?"

"Um, I suppose," Harry answered hesitantly. "When it comes to Dudley, I guess."

"Good. You're learning."

Harry scrunched his forehead up in confusion. Several moments had passed before Harry realized the other boy never promised not to hurt Dudley.

* * *

Petunia slammed her purse onto the kitchen counter. "I have half a mind to sue that school nurse. How dare she! How dare she say that about Dudley!"

"Now Pet," Vernon said as he hung his car keys on the hook. "I'm sure if you just speak with the headmaster—"

"No! That's not enough!" Petunia waved a piece of paper in the air. Harry recognized it as the medical instruction the nurse wrote down for Dudley several days ago. "She has to learn what happens to people who insult my son!"

"I don't understand," Harry whispered to Severus. "What's going on?"

"I believed your relatives attempted to use the note the nurse gave Dudley as evidence in their lawsuit. The Barrister must have informed them the note essentially called their son a hypochondriac," Severus said, making no attempt to lower the volume of his voice. "The verbiage also implies Dudley is overweight by suggesting a sugar-free diet and exercise."

"What?" Petunia re-read the note twice. "She did! Did you use your freakiness to make her write this?"

"What? No!" Harry protested. "That's impossible! He couldn't have influenced her!"

"Actually, there's a number of charms, potions, and hexes capable of doing exactly that. A number of which are undetectable by magical law enforcement," Severus interjected. "I most certainly could have."

"You just don't know when to keep your trap shut, don't you?" Vernon growled.

Petunia was silent, a fearful glimmer of recognition glinted in her eyes. The phrasing reminded her of similar threats he made to her a decade ago.

"And just what are you two doing out of your room?" Vernon suddenly realized the two were out of their 'prison.'

"Harry was hungry."

"Fine," Vernon and Petunia shared a look with each other. "Enjoy our generosity while it lasts."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

* * *

"Up! Up! Both of you! Breakfast in fifteen!"

"Breakfast? This early?" Harry looked at the clock. It wasn't quite six yet.

"You heard the shrill old nag," Severus said. "Breakfast in fifteen."

"Do you think they're going to go and do something today?"

Severus rolled his eyes. Of course they were planning to go do something. The muggles never woke up before seven. Vernon never ambled off to work before eight thirty, about the time they went to school.

"I'm sure it's related to their absurd lawsuit," Severus conjectured as he pulled on a black button-up shirt and dark slacks. He noted that they were getting a bit short and snug at the waist. He'd have find new clothing before long.

"Why do you always wear black?" Harry asked as he pulled on a blindingly bright lime green shirt and khakis.

"I find dark colors slimming," he sarcastically bit out, too tired for Harry's inane questions.

Harry blinked. "Did you just tell a joke?"

"No."

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Severus sighed. "Dark colored clothing allows one to blend into the background and shadows better."

Harry looked about the bright bedroom, the light floral pink wallpaper cheerful with the light of the rising sun. "What shadows?"

"Go brush your teeth."

* * *

"Hurry and eat. We have to be in London by nine." Petunia slammed a plate of eggs and bacon in front of both boys."

"Why?" Harry asked as he dug into the plate of hot food.

"Yes. Why?" Severus eyed the plate suspiciously. It was unlike Petunia to cook for them.

"Are we out of that icky healthy cereal?" Harry asked, wolfing down the eggs as if he thought Petunia might change her mind and take it away.

"Don't ask questions!" Petunia set a mug of coffee in front of Severus. "Shut up and be grateful I'm giving you anything at all."

Severus eyed the coffee suspiciously. His need for caffeine overruled his doubts.

"Where's Dudley? Isn't he going too?" Harry asked, ignoring her instructions to 'shut up and not ask questions.'

"No." Petunia and Vernon shared a look. They both looked smug and oddly pleased. "He'll stay at home, resting. Now shut up and eat."

"I'll warm up the car and pull it out of the garage," Vernon gleefully announced. As he grabbed his keys he began whistling a tune.

"They're up to something," Severus stated the obvious as the two adults retreated down the hall.

"No shit Sherlock."

"It sounds like she's in our room," Severus observed, listing to the footsteps above.

"She never goes in there. She's probably in Dudley's room. It's next door," Harry shrugged, stuffing bacon into his mouth. "Besides, they're always up to something, especially Aunt Petunia."

"And you're not concerned?"

"Oh, I know whatever they're up to it won't go well for us. There's just no point worrying about it. Whatever it is, it's probably already done. We'll just have to make the best of it and enjoy the bacon."

"That's disgustingly shortsighted."

* * *

"We're here," Vernon joyfully announce as he pulled his car up to a large nondescript building on a busy London street. "Nine fifteen, just after opening for the day."

Vernon pulled into a parking spot reserved for the disabled near the front door.

"I need you to run an errand for us." Petunia pulled out two sealed thick manila envelopes. Each had their names on them and a notarized seal. "These are some important legal documents. I need you two to run them into the building. Take them directly to the receptionist at the front desk. They'll know what the papers are and what to do with them. Wait there for them to give you instructions."

"Do you want me to feed the parking meter on my way?"

"That won't be necessary. Hurry it up. We've got things to do today."

"But if we have to wait for a response—"

"Just do what your aunt says!"

Harry hesitated. "Why are we doing this? What are these papers for?"

"It's legal paperwork put together by the attorney."

"But—"

"GO!" Vernon shouted, pointing towards the building.

* * *

"What is this place?" Severus snorted as he caught sight of the building's interior. Rainbows and anthropomorphized animals adorned the walls. Bibles and religious pamphlets were scattered about the reception area, and a painting of their Christ hung on a wall. It was some kind of religious organization, related to the Church of England.

"The sign says The Children's Society of Saint Bruits above the door," Harry answered.

"Yes, I can read, but what is this place?" Severus gestured to a bored looking man reading a newspaper at a desk next to a set of doors with a keypad above the handles. "Is that a guard?"

"Yeah, and I've never heard of this place." Harry shrugged as he walked up to the desk. "Hello?"

"Do you have an appointment?" The receptionist glanced up from her computer, then looked around. "Are your guardians here?"

"No," Severus answered, not sure what to make of the situation. "They're in the car outside, waiting."

"We were told to deliver these papers to you," Harry piped up, sliding the envelopes across the counter.

"What are they?" The woman asked, confused as she took the envelopes.

"My aunt said you'd know what they were and what to do with them."

The woman opened the envelope and pulled out a sheaf of papers. She quickly thumbed through them and read a clipped note. She opened the second envelope and pulled out a nearly identical set of papers. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Harry shrugged. "My aunt said to wait here for instruction."

The woman looked up, blinking in confusion. She pointed at a small waiting area, littered with toys. "Wait there while I speak with someone who can straighten this out."

She went to the doors by the guard, whispered to him briefly, then disappeared behind the doors. Severus looked at her desk and saw several small televisions displaying a live image of the lobby. He looked up and saw several cameras affixed to the ceiling.

"I've a creepy feeling about this place. Let's go," Harry whispered after they waited for a few moments. "We'll tell Aunt Petunia that we gave them the papers and that they'll phone her."

"I agree." Severus didn't hesitate. He glanced up at the guard. He was no longer reading, but watching them. The hair on his neck stood. "Let's go."

They were almost to the door when Severus saw a red light flash above the door and heard the soft click of a lock.

"Sit back down," the guard stood from his desk. "I've secured the door."

"Why?"

"You're not to leave the building without an adult guardian."

"But my Aunt and Uncle are right there waiting for us, in that parking spot-" Harry pointed to the parking spot, which was now empty. "Uncle Vernon must have moved the car."

"Moved it all the way back to Surrey you mean," Severus sarcastically bit out as he looked at the nearly empty car park.

"No one is there. Sit back down."

"What is this place?" Severus asked, making no move towards the chairs.

"Saint Bruits Secure Home for Boys."

"This is a juvenile detention center?" Severus furrowed his brows and looked at the religious propaganda scattered about. "A charity home for delinquents, run by the church?"

"Like an orphanage?" Harry asked. His eyes grew large with fear. The Dursley's had always threatened to send him to one.

"No, more like a prison for children, used to indoctrinate impressionable young minds with religious drivel." Severus looked at the guard. "Am I wrong?"

"We call it rehabilitation," the guard grumbled. "Sit back down, Stephen and Harry."

"How'd you know our names?" Harry asked gullibly.

"The receptionist told him. It was on the paperwork." Severus sneered as he tugged Harry towards the play area in the corner.

"Can you unlock the door?" Harry whispered.

Severus fingered his wand as he looked at the cameras and the strange electronic locks on the doors. "I've never seen locks like those, but they shouldn't be a problem. I'm more concerned about the cameras and the paper trail, and if Petunia relinquished custody in that paperwork. If she did, it may not be safe to go back to your Aunt's house."

"Why?"

"Put this on. Keep it next to your skin under your shirt," Severus pulled off the magic key he wore on a string around his neck, ignoring the question. This wasn't the time to discuss the blood wards. "Do you remember how to activate it?"

"Yeah," Harry answered as he tucked the key away. "You say—"

"Not now you dolt!" Severus hissed as put his hand over Harry's mouth, shushing him. "Wait until you're ready to use it!"

"Oh, yeah, right."

Severus hesitated. Was it wise to trust the little dolt with his only portkey? "Do not let them take it from you. If they try, use it. If we become separated, use it. Once at my house, you will go inside and wait there. Do not try to go back to your aunt's house or come after me."

"But what about you?" Harry protested. "I can't ditch you!"

"You'll do exactly that."

"No."

"Don't be obstinate!" Severus caught the look in the boy's eyes and knew Harry would never willingly leave without him. "I've no need for the portkey and will apparate after you."

Stubbornly, Harry shook his head.

"I'll need a distraction to clean up this mess up. Your sudden disappearance shall provide it." Severus looked up at the guard. He was watching the two boys closely. "After your disappearance I'll disable the cameras and retrieve the paperwork."

"I can help you."

"No. The ministry may be alerted once I use my wand." Odds were they'd never notice a few unlocking charms in the middle of London. The memory charms he planned to use would defiantly grab their attention. but it was a risk he'd rather not take. "I may need to use some memory charms. Those are illegal. If they come to investigate you cannot still be here."

"Yeah, but I could—"

"Enough!"

"You two, quiet!" The guard shouted from across the room. "Or I'll separate you!"

Severus was saved from trouble of making a scathing retort by the reemergence of the receptionist. Behind her, two large adults dressed in grey muggle scrubs followed. "Which one of you is Harry?"

"I am."

"It's very nice to meet you, Harry," the woman greeted in a sugary tone engineered to be calming to a small child. Severus found it condescending. "And you too, Stevie."

"Thank you, ma'am." Severus's eyes narrowed, but he played along. "It's nice to meet you too."

The woman smiled. "It turns out that you two will be staying here for a little bit while we sort out some paperwork. We have a playground with a big fun slide. Would you like to see it?"

"I can't think of nothing I'd like more," he drawled. "But first, can you tell me when the Dursley's will be back to collect us?"

"I'm not sure. We need to straighten out some paperwork first," the woman soothed evasively. "We also have a Nintendo. We can pop some popcorn too. And if you promise not to tell, I think I might be able to find some ice cream!"

"You'll let me play video games?" Harry asked, curiosity piqued. "And you'll let me have ice cream?"

"Of course!"

 _Don't be an idiot, Potter,_ Severus thought to himself. It looked like the boy was ready to move in. "Ice cream and a video playing machine sounds lovely, but I do have a question first."

"Oh?"

"What's the status of Harry's guardianship in regard to his aunt?"

The woman blinked. "Well, like I said, we're still going through the paperwork."

"The question is simple," Severus pressed. "Is Petunia Dursley still Harry's legal guardian?"

The woman glanced up at the two orderlies with a silent signal he'd have to be blind to miss. One of the men quietly positioned himself to block him and Harry into the corner. "Like I said, the paperwork—"

"Did they contain paperwork divesting Harry of his guardians?"

Severus attempted to look into her eyes, but the woman wouldn't meet them, rendering the mental arts useless. "Let's go get some ice cream and we can talk about it this afternoon."

"You're evading my question. Why?"

"I'll be blunt then, Stephen. Your guardians have brought you here for a reason, and we will discuss that reason once we go inside. Either come with me or we will make you."

"Now Harry!" he whispered, nudging Harry in the arm.

The boy shook his head. "Not without you."

"Go!"

Harry shook his head again as he backed up towards the wall. The two goons edged closer before reaching for his arm.

"Lemon sherbet," Severus barked, sending Harry away with an indignant shout of protest.

Stunned, the adults stared at the empty space a moment before pandemonium erupted. The distraction was enough to allow Severus to draw his wand and send a pulse of magic to the cameras. The electronics shorted out just as one of the goons made a grab for his 'stick'.

* * *

Harry landed in the overgrown back yard on Spinner's End. The grass and weeds were as tall as he, but he could see the back of the building. The windows of the neighboring row houses were either boarded up or broken.

Harry forgot how angry he was with Stevie as he looked about. Everything was still and quiet, dead. The abandoned neighborhood looked creepy, like it was haunted. The first time he was here he was with the older boy after visiting a graveyard on Halloween. The house seemed almost homey then, a haven away from the Durleys. Now it was just decrepit and scary.

Harry realized it was the other boy, not the house, which made those feeling of hominess. And now without him, Harry felt alone and scared. He didn't know about the bond on a conscious level, so his childish mind mistranslated Stevie's absence into terms he could understand.

Tears welled in Harry's eyes as he stood rooted in place, unsure what to do. Should he go into the house? Or should he wait for Stevie outside? What if the other boy never came for him, stuck in London, locked up in juvie without him?

A big raven landed on the fence and cawed. It looked at Harry with intelligent eyes, as if expecting something from him. It cawed again and goosebumps erupted on his skin. The sound of a big bang, like a big firecracker, startled Harry. He spun around to see his godbrother standing behind him.

Harry launched himself at Severus and wrapped his arms around the older boy. The recent fear and grief at being abandoned by his relatives poured out of him.

Severus winced as the child latched onto him, not used to physical contact, but allowed the hug. He regretted it when he felt the moisture from Harry's snot and tears soak his shirt. He pulled the still crying child into his house.


	16. The Thirteenth Use for Dragon's Blood

(Part II)

* * *

The Thirteenth Use for Dragon's Blood

Chapter 15

* * *

"Congratulations Potter, you're now a homeless delinquent." Severus said some hours later as he thumbed through the legal documents at an old rickety desk. "Had I not taken these documents back muggle law enforcement would be looking for you."

"What about you?"

"I'm merely a delinquent. I own a home."

"A kid can't own a home."

"Can't they? And in any case, we're stuck here for a while."

"I can't go back to the Dursley's?" Severus couldn't help but not miss the hopeful gleam in his eyes.

"Your aunt has relinquished custody of us. Perhaps the damage to the wards can be repaired if she accepts you back," Severus mulled it over for a moment. "The true danger lies in her revoking custody again while I'm unaware. What if the wards were to fall in the middle of the night?"

"You said you took the paperwork back. It hasn't been filed yet, so technically we still have to live with them, don't we?"

"Magic doesn't care about muggle paperwork. The instant she left the parking lot this morning was when the wards began to unravel. You'll not be returning there anytime soon."

"Good. I'd rather stay here."

"You little fool. You have to go back," Severus pushed aside the papers and pulled out a piece of funny looking paper. It was thick and yellowish.

"Why?"

"We've been through this, brat. You're not as safe here. My home is heavily warded, but not with blood wards. Furthermore, this rundown shack isn't appropriate for a child. You need to go to school and do whatever it is children your age do."

Harry squinted at the odd statement. "You mean stay locked up in my aunt's guest room, watching you read boring books?"

Severus glared then pulled out a feather and a glass bottle of what looked like ink from the desk. "I distinctly remember telling you to go outside and play with your cousin on numerus occasions."

"The only game he likes to play is Harry Hunting! Besides, you only suggested it because you knew I didn't want to go."

"Evading your cousin is a character building endeavor," Severus responded. The boy had a point, but would never admit it out loud. He uncapped the ink and dipped the sharp end into the inkpot and began writing in a fancy script Harry couldn't read.

"What are you doing?"

"Penning a letter to Dumbledore about our situation."

"Wouldn't a pencil be better? And what language is that?"

"Queen's English." Severus paused to look at Harry, an exasperated expression on his face. "Surely you've seen formal script before, at school."

"It looks really old-fashioned." Harry shook his head. "No one but you writes like that, not even Aunt Marge, and she's pretty old."

Severs paused in his writing again. Come to think of it, he couldn't recall seeing script at the muggle school. Did muggles not teach it in their schools? That would go a long way in explaining the difficulty many of his muggle born students had. He always wrote instruction on the chalkboard in cursive.

"Wizards and witches do not use notebook paper or plastic pens. In fact, at Hogwarts we'll be expected to use quills and parchment for our schoolwork."

"I've seen you use a pencil dozens of times to do homework or make notes."

"For personal notes yes. A letter to the Headmaster is a different matter."

"I still don't understand."

"The act of putting thought to parchment is as much an art as a subtle form of magic. Muggle writing implements mute this effect, and is considered impolite and impersonal."

"But why—"

"Why don't you go outside and see if you can't find my owl."

Harry sighed. "There's nothing out there but a great ugly raven."

"Let me rephrase my wording. Go amuse yourself and quit pestering me while I write this letter. Look in the corner kitchen cupboard. There should be a loaf of bread under a stasis charm. Feed it to the raven."

"It's tame, like your owl?"

"Go find out," Severus smirked. "Don't let him peck your eyes out."

"You're joking, right?"

Severus shrugged. "There's only one way to find out."

* * *

The raven was still creepy, but made no attempt to peck his eyes out. That was a plus, Harry decided, fascinated by the bird. Its bird-eyes were intelligent and knowing, following his every move. When Harry spoke to it, it bobbed its head and cawed in return.

Harry tossed a stale breadcrumb at it, and the bird looked at it for a moment before swooping down and snatching it up. It then flew to a gutter and watched Harry expectantly. He threw another piece at it. This time, the bird snatched it out of the air.

"Is he like an owl?" Harry asked as Severus joined him on the back porch. His letter was rolled up in his hand. "Will it carry your letters?"

"Perhaps if I took the time to train him, but Ravens make poor familiars. They're too intelligent and willful," Severus said. "They're not docile and more likely to do what they want rather that what they're told."

"Then why's it here?"

"I made the mistake of feeding him several years ago. Now he won't leave me be."

Harry giggled.

"I've named him Corvus. It's not unusual for magically inclined animals to attach themselves to a witch, wizard, or property. He comes by on occasion, looking for a meal or a shiny object to steal." Severus whistled and looked to the sky for his owl. "Keep an eye out for the owl. Pepper will come, but it may take a while for her to get here."

"What do we do until then?"

"We wait."

"Yeah, but there's nothing to do here," Harry wined. "You don't even have cable."

"There's an overgrown back yard that needs attention," Severus threatened, expecting the boy to shut up at the prospect of doing yardwork in the middle of winter.

Unexpectedly, Harry thought about it for a moment. "You got a lawnmower in that shed? The grass should be dry enough to cut."

"Be my guest." Severus refrained from mentioning that he could simply cut the grass with a wave of his wand, and then charm it not to grow so fast. "Use the big lopper shears to first to cut it down to size before you use the mower. Throw the cuttings in the corner and I'll show you how to mulch it for growing potions ingredients."

"'kay." Harry brightened at the prospect of learning something vaguely magical.

Severus turned to go back into the house, then paused. "Don't chop any body parts off. I'll be irritated if I have to brew the potions needed to reattach them."

Harry couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

* * *

Severus looked out the window at the boy working outside. He could tell the boy was still upset at what amounted to abandonment by his family. This contrasted with the joy of not living there any more, leaving the boy somewhat confused about how to feel about the situation. He sensed that the physical activity of yardwork would help him, both providing a distraction from emotion and giving the boy time to think.

He turned his attention to the kitchen.

He debated it for a few moments, before deciding that the benefits from few household charms outweighed the risks. A wave of his hand banished the kitchen dust and grime. It took several more trys to renew an array of simple house hold charms. He was forced to use his wand for the wards, but did it quickly. After a few more moments of consideration, he flipped open the fuse box panel and flipped a switch. He hadn't bothered with electricity in ten years, having no use for it as a wizard.

The compressor motor in the old fridge groaned and sputtered, then settled into a rickety hum. He tried the light switch above the gas stove next. The little bulb flashed, and then burned out. Would _repairo_ work on a lightbulb? As it turned out, no.

The dusty old black and white television and set of rabbit ears was a far cry from the cable-fed large color sets in every room at the Dursley's, but it should help keep the boy entertained. He plugged it in, but left it off.

He opened a random cupboard. There was no food inside. He opened another, finding several tins of cream of mushroom soup and chicken broth. He pulled them out and looked at the faded label. They were fifteen years old. His mother must have bought them before she died. He opened another cupboard. A plastic bag of rice and a package of kosher sea salt sat inside. The final cupboard contained a treasure trove. There was Tupperware box of old ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise packets, several boxes of generic macaroni and cheese, and several packages of Top Raman. He vaguely remembered buying them the summer before his seventh year.

* * *

"What is it?" Harry eyed the food suspiciously.

"This is what impoverished muggles eat," Severus snapped indignantly. "If you don't want it, you're welcome to go back outside and finish your yardwork, your highness."

"I'm just asking what it is," Harry protested as he took a bite. "You don't need to snap at me. See? I'm eating it. Yum."

Severus sighed. "Rice, macaroni, and cream of mushroom casserole."

Why does it taste funny?" He neglected to mention that it was too soupy for a casserole. It had to be eaten with a spoon.

"Because this food is older than you are."

Harry paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. "Is it safe?"

"You tell me. Do you feel ill?"

"No," he replied as he scrutinized his bowl. Aunt Petunia had her faults, but the food she begrudgingly gave him was generally safe to eat.

"I've a bit of muggle money saved. We'll go to a store as soon as I hear back from the headmaster."

"The food was good the last time we were here," Harry glumly pointed out.

"That was food from Hogwarts. The house elves prepared it and sent it by magic. While you were outside I strengthen the wards. No house elves will be able to get in."

Severus hadn't tasted his casserole yet. The boy said it tasted 'funny', but ate it. It couldn't be that bad, could it? He took a bite and nearly gaged. He noticed Harry watching him, so he schooled his face into one of indifference and took another bite. Then another.

Maybe he shouldn't have added those packets of mayo.

* * *

"Your owl's here," a grubby Harry said as he flopped onto the old couch. The wood frame groaned under the abuse, despite the boy's slight weight. Harry sneezed at the dust his movement kicked up.

"Let Pepper in, please," Severus said without looking up from his book, pointing to the window.

Harry slid open the rickety wood-framed window. The bird flew in, landing on a big perch in the corner Harry hadn't noticed before.

"Give her a few moments to eat and drink, then tie this to her leg," Severs said pointing to the rolled up letter.

"Will she bite me?" Harry eyed the massive owl with cation. Her beak looked sharp enough to break through bone.

"I suggest you don't try to take her owl treats from her, or she may snap."

Harry eyed the bird as it used a foot to hold a treat to its beak as it crunched on it. "It's a good thing you don't have a front yard. I'm pooped."

"Indeed."

"I'm dirty."

"I see that," came the absent reply from behind a book. "Go take a shower."

"What I mean is, I need clean clothes."

"I put several sets of resized garments for your use in the small bedroom upstairs. Tomorrow I'll look in the attic and see if I can't find something that will fit us." Resized robes weren't ideal, but it would have to do for now.

"What about clean underpants?"

"They're not traditionally worn with robes."

"Robes?" Harry wrinkled his forehead in confusion. Did he mean a bathrobe? "Can't we go back to the Dursley's just to get our stuff? If we wait too long aunt Petunia might throw our stuff out, if she hasn't already."

"No. Not until I determine the state of the blood wards. Until then it's unsafe."

"But what about your knapsack and research notes?"

"I'm more concerned about losing several rare books, the vault keys, and my old wand. Notes and books can be replaced."

"How long will it take for Pepper to deliver the letter?"

"As long as it takes for her to fly to Scotland." Severus thought about it for a second. "About two days."

"Wouldn't it be quicker to use the phone?"

* * *

Breakfast the next morning consisted of cold leftover 'casserole.' Harry ate it, but his demeanor lacked the usual enthusiasm he displayed when presented with food. Severus took several bites and decided to go hungry.

"I don't think I like wearing these robe things," Harry announced as he squirmed in his seat. "They're too draughty, and they look like a creepy weird dress."

"You'll get used to them."

"I don't think I want to get used to them," Harry said around a mouthful of food. "They look like something Count Dracula would wear, if he wore creepy dresses."

"A proper wizard wears robes, not dresses."

Harry eyed the severe looking high collared black robes the other boy wore. He had a sneaky suspicion that the dusty old garments weren't the height of fashion even in the wizarding world. "But it makes you look like a bat. And what's with all these buttons?"

"I'm sorry my clothes offend your delicate sense of fashion!" Severus snapped, hoping his tone would shut the boy up. The bat comment irritated him, but he'd never tell the brat that. "Perhaps you'd rather wander about naked?"

"You don't have a sense of fashion to offend," Harry muttered, refusing to fall for the gambit. "And you still look like a bat."

Severus was saved from answering by a knock on the door.

"Who—"

"Shush!" Severus pulled out his wand and stalked to a window that looked out to the front porch. As soon as he saw who was outside, his body relaxed a bit, but he stayed tense. "Stay here."

Harry nodded, his eyes big, sensing the alarm and apprehension. He'd never seen the other boy move with stealth. It could only be described as 'stalking.'

"How many uses of dragon's blood are there?" Severus asked the person waiting outside, wand held ready.

"Thirteen."

"Get in here before anyone sees you!" Severus ripped open the door then slammed it shut behind their guest. "I've sent Pepper to you with a letter, but I doubt she's reached Hogwarts yet. This means something has happened."

"Yes, indeed. I've been worried sick! I know you tend to be paranoid, but was closing the floo necessary? Anti-apparition wards and confounding charms too? They hampered my ability to find you."

"Did they? Good. They're working as they should."

"Thank Merlin you're both are safe!" Albus Dumbledore continued as he followed Severus into the small kitchen.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

The old man set a muggle newspaper on the kitchen table. Harry looked at it from across the table. Even though he saw it up-side-down he could read the headline: _Two Boys Missing From Youth Correctional Facility, Investigation Underway_. Below the headline were two school photos of the boys.

"I thought you took the paperwork back before it could be filed?" Harry asked. "Wouldn't that have kept the paperwork from being filed, keeping the police from searching for us?"

"Apparently the muggles 'faxed' and 'Xeroxed' the paperwork to the muggle authorities. What does this mean, Severus?"

"Muggle nonsense, whatever it is," Severus shrugged dismissively rather than admitting ignorance.

Albus turned his eyes to Harry for an explanation.

"It means they made copies, and sent pictures of those copies through the phone lines to another fax machine."

"How is such a thing possible without magic?"

Harry shrugged. "It's like the television, but the picture is sent through the phone to another fax. The picture can then be printed out."

"What's the state of the wards?" Severus asked, changing the subject.

"The blood wards have weakened, but have yet to fall. I wouldn't have noticed your situation had Arabella not flooed me this morning," Albus responded as he pulled several miniature cardboard boxes from his robes. He set it on the kitchen floor where they enlarged to normal size. "She found this at the curb by the trashcans."

"Look, our clothes and your chemistry books! She threw our stuff out like I thought she would. Your knapsack is safe. We don't have to wear these weird robes anymore!" Harry exclaimed, then his face darkened with sadness. "She didn't plan on us coming back, did she?"

"No."

Harry bit his bottom lip. He could feel the boy's feelings of abandonment waring with his glee at not having to go back.

"Now Severus, what happened?" Severus poured himself and Dumbledore a cup of coffee. The old man took a sip and grimaced at the stale taste.

"Petunia voluntarily revoked her custody of us yesterday morning," Severus pushed the paperwork towards the old man. "The wards most likely had been weakening for some time, but began unraveling about nine thirty yesterday morning."

"I can persuade her to accept Harry back. That should repair the wards. You and Harry—"

"Are you daft old man?" Severus shouted. "She abandoned children in her care! It's pure luck the wards didn't fall in the middle of the night due to her muggle animosity!"

"Surely she'll see reason—"

"No! Had I not been there the boy would still be stuffed in a cupboard, half-starved! His uncle hit him hard enough to knock the boy unconscious. I'll not even get into the neglect and verbal abuse!"

"You can't stay here either. Surely your former acquaintances know where to find you."

"Doubtful anyone outside of Azkaban knows of this house. I hid my muggle lineage from said acquaintances for obvious reasons." He thought for a moment. "The one witch who knew of this house is dead, along with her husband and most of their acquaintances."

"Let me research the matter before I make a final decision," Dumbledore sighed. "Perhaps some compromise can be reached. I don't want to lose either of you."

"You may lose us to food poisoning," Harry glumly quipped around a mouthful of Casserole Surprise.

"If you think you can do better, you're more than welcome to take over the cooking," Severus snapped irritably as he took his mostly full plate to the sink.

Dumbledore eyed the 'muggle cuisine' with curiosity. He took another sip of the coffee and winced. "I've never understood how a person so gifted with potions could be so inept at cooking."

"How many times do I have to tell you, cooking is not brewing."

Dumbledore winked at Harry. "I still find it peculiar that a potions prodigy who's been known to brag about brewing fame and glory can't brew a cuppa the save his life."

"He's bad at football too, can't kick a ball without tipping over it," Harry piped up.

Severus glared and Albus who hid a smile behind his mug of ineptly brewed coffee.

"While you waste my time coming to a decision, we'll need the means to obtain edible food."

"Your wards won't allow me to arrange for a house elf to deliver meals from Hogwarts."

"I'm aware of that," Severus gestured to the knapsack. "I now have the boy's vault key and my emergency funds. The problem lies in transportation to a suitable market, muggle or otherwise."

"Can't we just pop there?"

"That may draw unwanted attention to the house. I'd rather not make a habit of it. Besides, I have wards up hampering that. We may 'pop' out, but not in."

"I commend your caution," Dumbledore sighed, "but don't you think you're being a bit paranoid?"

"Am I? You put me in charge of his safety, now let me do my job!" Severus groused irritably. "You being here is enough of a risk!"

"Now Severus—"

"No! Need I remind you what happened last summer? Last November? Or yesterday? Not three minutes have passed since you asked me if my former acquaintances could find this place! You may be an expert in the thirteen uses of dragon's blood, but I know what I speak of."

"Very well," Dumbledore sighed. "I'll defer to your expertise. In the meantime, I've several contacts in the ministry helping me keep this under wraps. However, I can't guarantee someone won't see this article and come to the conclusion Harry is missing."

"There's nothing we can do about that. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. That still leaves me with the problem of obtaining food. I'd also like to begin tutoring the boy, which means several trips to London for books and supplies."

"You could temporarily open the floo once or twice a week, or you can use owl order. Neither is ideal if you wish to maintain this absurd level of isolation, though. Is there a muggle store you can walk to?"

"I'd prefer not to tamper with the wards, and there's an old petrol station on the corner that sells muggle junk food. The next nearest market is a Tesco several miles away, requiring us to transverse through a questionable neighborhood, cross a large river, and walk along a busy motorway—all no place for two children who wish to remain unnoticed."

"I thought you said we _were_ in the questionable neighborhood," Harry muttered.

"There's relatively little criminal activity here due to my wards. They only extend several blocks. Beyond that drunken muggle teens rove the neighborhood like animals, causing mayhem."

"A broom coupled with a disillusionment charm then?" Dumbledore suggested.

Severus grimaced as he thought about riding his old Cleansweep to Diagon Alley. No doubt Harry would enjoy that. "Perhaps."

"What about the knight bus?"

"Why don't I just owl the Malfoy's a map to my house?" Severus sarcastically bit out. "It'd save time!"

"If you're trying to stay off the grid, why don't we just take the commuter rail? A stop shouldn't be too far away. I heard a train whistle yesterday," Harry said with the air of the obvious. "There's always the bus too."

"There we go! Problem solved," Dumbledore said jovially as he stood. "A muggle bus and you'll stay out of this 'grid' of yours."

"No, it's not 'problem solved'!" Severus growled. He hadn't interacted with muggles since early childhood, and even then it was only with Lilly and his father. He was at a loss, and it made him cranky. "I know nothing about this muggle commuter rail, where to board it, or how much it costs!"

"We can look it up in the phone directory," Harry sagely suggested. "You've a phonebook, don't you?"

 _Phone directory books?_ Severus looked at Harry, not sure what the little brat was talking about. "This house hasn't had a working phone in nearly forty years."

"You're the smartest person I know," Dumbledore place his mostly full coffee cup in the old sink next to the uneaten casserole. "I've faith in your ability to feed yourself."

"Don't patronize me, old man!"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Dumbledore paused for a second, silently debating whether he should bring something up. Apparently, he came to a decision. "How have you progressed regarding our discussion with occlumency?"

"You needn't worry. The boy has yet to learn it, and I doubt he'll master it."

"I'm speaking of your promise."

"What promise?" Harry asked, sensing an important conversation occurring under his nose.

Severus glared, but ignored the boy's question. Mental shields that were once second nature to him since his early twenties had become impossible to maintain. He could blank his mind for short periods of time, but inevitably, headaches and childish emotions would force their way through. "Apparently my underdeveloped neurological state is ill-suited for maintaining occlumency for extended periods of time."

"Very good!" the old man turned towards the front door. "Keep up the good work!"

Severus would never admit it aloud, but the muggle pills went a long way in calming his emotions, making occlumency largely unnecessary. The growing bond with the boy was another factor, both hampering occlumency and further relaxing his emotions. He was sure Dumbledore knew of the side effects of such a bond. Instead he settled for a silent glare.

"Now that I know you're safe, I'll take my leave. I've a stack of paperwork waiting for me. I'm only a floo or owl away if you need me." Albus reached for the doorknob.

"For pity's sake, go out the back!" Severus snapped, pointing to the door on the other side of the kitchen. "Whatever possessed you to wear those robes in this neighborhood? Did you have a mentally deranged Huffelpuff pick them out for you?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I've missed your blunt honesty and acerbic wit, my boy."

* * *

Harry never had his own room before. He smiled as he looked at his new room with pride. It was dilapidated, but it was his, and Harry loved it. He even liked the outdated green shag carpet.

The old brick row house had three bedrooms upstairs. Stevie claimed the bigger room as his own. The smaller room was being used as a book-filled den. The middle room looked like an old disused teen's bedroom from the seventies.

Like most of the house, there was a thick layer of dust coating every surface. The room was being used to store boxes of books, but Harry pushed them into the den. An old wardrobe stood in the corner, empty except for several sets of those funny robes. A chest of drawers stood empty along another wall, an old steamer trunk sat at the foot of the bed, and a single bed rested along the other wall. It even had a rickety old desk, empty expect for the odd bit of parchment and broken quill.

The wall was decorated with old school pennants, green, and with snakes. What kind of school used a snake as a mascot?

Harry pulled out a dusty box of vinyl records and a phonograph from the wardrobe and set it up on the shelves. Black Sabbath; the Eagles; AC/DC; Queen; Weird Sisters; it was all old rock music from the seventies, most of which he'd never heard of. It certainly was a far cry from the commercialized rap Dudley favored.

Harry pulled out a record and played something called 'Dirty Deeds.' He wasn't sure if he liked it, but it was better than the silence.

"Clear out the old schoolbooks out of that trunk," Severus instructed over the sound of the music. "Put all but the grade one books in the den. You can read through them until you get your own set. Throw out any used parchment you find. I want you writing your own study notes."

They weren't going to school. Why should he have to study those old books? Even the prospect of learning magic wasn't enough to make him enthusiastic about studying an old book. "Who's room was this, anyway?"

Sensing an argument on the horizon Severus let the subject of studying drop—for now. "Mine."

Harry scrunched up his forehead in confusion. "That doesn't make sense. It looks like this room belonged to a teenager from the seventies, and it hasn't been used in years." Harry held up a pair of artfully ripped Levi's found crumbled under the bed. "See? Bellbottoms."

"Those are not bellbottoms," Severus snapped indignantly, sounding almost insulted at the thought of being associated with bellbottoms. "You may have what's in this room. I just ask that you let me look through any spellbooks you find. Box up the clothing for the attic. We'll grow into them in several years."

"But won't we look funny in those old style clothes? I thought you didn't want to stand out?"

Severus sighed and ran his hand through his hair. It was starting to grow out again. "The muggles call it 'vintage.' It'll be fine."

"More like outdated antiques," Harry muttered, but let the matter drop. "Can I paint the walls blue and tack up some posters?"

"Do you have any paint? Or posters?"

"No."

"There's your answer."

"If I had some paint, then could I?" Harry glumly asked, disappointment written on his face.

"I don't care what you do with your room as long as it's not too loud or attracts vermin."

"Huh? My room? I've never had an entire room to myself."

"Keep it clean and the music at a reasonable volume," Severus clarified. "You share a wall with the neighbor. I don't want any complaints."

"Someone lives there?"

"I don't know, and I don't want to find out." He doubted anyone but vagrants lived anywhere near.

"Oh," Harry said as he shot a glare at the schoolbooks.

An idea struck and Severus ran with it. "There's probably a way to change the wall color in one of the school books. We need to limit wanded magic so I suggest you look in the potions book." He knew for a fact that there were three color changing potions in the textbook, one of which could be modified for use on the walls. "Research a potion and I'll help you make it."

Harry's eyes lit up. "A potion can do that?"

"Transfiguration and charms are better suited for the task. However, a potion can yield results."

* * *

The petrol station turned out to consist of a small convenience store and several pumps. There was overpriced milk, boxes of macaroni and cheese, frozen microwave 'hot pockets', soda, and not much else. More importantly, it had a phone box with a tethered directory in the car park.

"We're lucky. Usually someone cuts the cord and steals the book," Harry said as he thumbed through the water stained pages. "Here, there's the bus schedule and a map of stops. The green and blue routes stop at the rail station, the red one on the weekends. I bet we can get to London from there."

"Are you sure?"

"No, but I don't see why not," Harry shrugged. "We might have to change trains a few times."

Severus looked at the muggle color-coded diagram skeptically, doubting any muggle had the mental facility to decipher it. He certainly couldn't decrypt it.

Harry looked at the map, then up towards the street signs on the corner, then back at the map. He then glanced about, finally finding what he was searching for. "See? There, that sign by the bench? That's a bus stop, the blue line, and stop number twelve. It comes by every forty-five minutes."

"It must be a relatively new addition to the neighborhood." The bus stop wasn't there fifteen years ago. "Can you tell where it goes?"

"All over." Harry looked at the map. "You said Tesco was across a river by a big motorway? I think the blue bus line stops near there."

"We shall attempt to go shopping tomorrow. We need food."

"What's for lunch?"

"Vintage Top Raman and old mayonnaise packets."

"Can I at least cook it?" Harry eyed the store longingly, namely the frozen pizzas and soda.

"Be my guest."

Harry sighed, resigned to his culinary fate.

"Oh here," Severus relented as he pulled out a ten pound note and passed it to Harry. "See what you can find. Mind, it has to last us until tomorrow."

It seems that all the money could buy was a small jar of peanut butter, a loaf of strangely textured bread, and several packages of 'fresh' Top Raman. It was disgustingly sugary and salty, the bread was gummy, but still better than anything currently in his kitchen.

* * *

"The back stove burner doesn't work," Harry announced. He sniffed the air. "It's leaking gas. I think that green stuff is coating the igniter."

"Then don't use it." Severus didn't mention it hadn't worked since an unfortunate potions accident in his youth. The sparker to light the gas was ruined.

"We need a microwave," Harry said as he fiddled with another burner.

"No."

"Why not? You have a coffee maker." Harry pointed at the decades-old Mr. Coffee, his lone countertop appliance.

"That radioactive muggle claptrap is too expensive. Use the stovetop."

"You know, those old reddish-orange ceramic bowls are probably more radioactive than any microwave," Harry said pointing to the chipped Fiestaware ceramic dishes. "Especially if they were made before the seventies."

"Ridiculous."

"They used to use uranium in pottery glazes," Harry said, shrugging. "Last year in science class we shined a black light on pottery like it and it glowed green. Antique Vaseline and Canary glass will do that too."

"I doubt muggles would be dumb enough to mass-market such a thing." Severus cast a dubious look at the dishes he inherited with the house, not knowing what a black light was. He grew up eating off them to no ill effect, but still…..

"A microwave is quicker, uses less electricity, and won't leak radiation," Harry patently explained. The other boy was book-smart, but sometimes not very bright when it came to modern things like microwaves. "I could have had the noodles done ten minutes ago. The water hasn't even heated up yet."

"You're the one who wanted to cook," Severus threatened. "I'd be than happy to resume the chore."

"No, that's okay." The threat was unsaid, but clear: stop complaining or I'll make you eat my cooking. However, Harry's inclination for stubbornness was becoming more and more evident. The boy's personality was peeking through the more he replaced the Dursley's influence in his life. "It's just that you can use it to heat up the cold coffee in your radioactive cups."

"I'd rather drink it cold and keep my money for food."

"If I had the money, I'd buy one, with or without your permission. I don't think they're too expensive."

Severus took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, sensing a future battle. Harry didn't know about the vault of gold his parents left him. He didn't know how much was in there, but suspected it needed to be budgeted to last the boy into adulthood. His own meager savings wouldn't last seven years, especially now that he was purchasing food. Besides, it'd be a cold day in hell before he'd spend James Potter's money.

"If you enjoy eating three times a day, we'll need to budget our money to last, which means no microwave ovens." What kind of boy wanted a microwave instead of brooms and toys anyway? "I also need to find a way to earn some cash."

"How? A paper route?"

"Don't be obtuse. Who in this neighborhood takes the paper, muggle or otherwise?" When he was a teen, Severus earned money selling hard to get ingredients and complex potions in Knockturn Alley. It wasn't uncommon for children to earn extra pocket change harvesting doxy wings, shrivelfigs, and flobberworms. Perhaps he could sell a few of his rare books as well? His body was young, making it unlikely he'd get a fair price for anything he sold. He could try though. "I'll think of something."

"Oh look, the water's boiling. It only took twenty minutes," Harry grumbled as he added the dehydrated ramen noodles and flavor packets to the pot. "Too bad we don't have cheese or butter, or I'd make us grilled cheese."

"This is sufficient."

Harry pulled out two old reddish-orange bowls and matching mugs.

"No, not the radioactive dishes."

Harry fought back a smile, and failed miserably.

* * *

Severus thought he didn't like riding the bus in Surrey. In his mind, the crowded suburban busses filled with working muggles and students couldn't get worse. He was wrong. The busses in Cokeworth were even more crowded.

The bus snaked its way through the city, and Severus found the city from what he remembered as a child. His street remained relatively unchanged, but he noticed that the homes on the outskirts of the neighborhood were being renovated, one by one. One of the abandoned mills had been converted into upscale 'historic condos'. Little shops lined the old cobblestone streets, selling craft beer, organic sandwiches, and antiques. Even the faces on the sidewalks looked different, appearing ethnically mixed and multicultural. He searched his memory for the muggle phrase he had heard. "Urban regeneration."

"Huh?" Harry asked as he watched the people on the bus.

"Urban regeneration. The city looks different, renovated." Idly, he wondered what industry replaced the steel mills. He pointed out a big plot of land that used to host warehouses. They were gone, and some kind of modern factory stood in its place. It had stacks, but the white vapor coming out of them didn't turn the sky brown. "That didn't used to be here."

"They make computer chips there," a muggle child about their age bragged from the next seat, dressed in some kind of school uniform that spoke of wealth. "My mom works there. She's an engineer. My dad got transferred to the sister plant in India for several months. The manager there is on a sabbatical."

"Maybe you should go join him," Severus sarcastically grumbled at the interloper. "I hear India is lovely this time of year."

"We're going to go visit him if he's still there at spring break."

"Might I suggest a refreshing dip in the Ganges once you get there?"

The child narrowed her eyes at him, sensing she was being insulted, but not quite knowing how. "You're not being very nice, are you?"

Harry disguised an snort as a cough.

"You must go to East Cokeworth Primary," She looked at their worn clothing. Harry's trousers were worn with holes in the knees from his frequent altercations with his cousin, and Severus's were a size too small with frayed hems. "My mum says to stay away from kids like you."

"Listen to you mother. Stay away from us."

"Don't listen to him. He's just cranky," Harry sagely chimed in. The other boy might be content to make everyone around scared of him, but Harry didn't like it. He wanted friends. "He ran out of coffee this morning."

"Or I may I may be useing his friendly disposition to distract you while I steal your money and use it to buy a cup of overpriced coffee," Severus grumbled as the bus passed yet another of the coffee stands that seemingly popped up in the city over the past ten years.

"We're not delinquents, honest."

The girl looked back and forth between the two. "You're creepy, both of you. Stay away from me." She crossed her arms and sat back in her seat, determined to ignore the strange boys. Eventually she got off at the next stop, with a handful of other students.

"What did you do that for? She could have been a friend!" Harry hissed.

"No, she couldn't have."

Harry glared. "Why not?"

"Use your brain, nitwit! Even if you ignore the fact that her family has money and the stigmas the muggles no doubt associate with our lack thereof, we need to keep a low profile. The muggle authorities are looking for two runaway boys."

Harry huffed. "Do you plan on chasing away everyone who might be my friend?"

"Yes."

"Sometimes you're just as bad of a bully as Dudley. He did the same thing to me, calling me names too."

"You ungrateful toe rag!" Severus hissed, narrowing his eyes at the comparison, not sure why the comment stung. He'd been called a bully numerus times by children in the past, and never before had it bothered him. "My efforts have kept your thankless ass safe!"

"By being mean to me and other kids?" Harry asked incredulously. "By keeping me from making friends?"

"This is only temporary," Severus sighed, his anger deflating. Oddly, he noted that didn't need to use his occlumency, the anger dissipated naturally. "Next year we'll be at Hogwarts where I'm sure you'll have your pick of sycophants."

"Sick-o whats?" Harry asked, his ire lost to confusion.

"Never mind," Severus muttered as he stared out the bus window. They were crossing the river now. The store wouldn't be very far away, perhaps the next stop. "We'll be there in a bit."

The boy didn't know he was famous yet. He'd him about Voldemort and that his parents died fighting in the war, but Harry didn't know the whole story yet. He'd dropped enough hints about his true age and nature, but the boy had yet to piece it together.

* * *

"If you can have a coffee maker, then why can't I have a microwave?" The boy whined as they passed through aisles of houseware items in search of lightbulbs.

"Because I've budgeted fifty quid or today's trip. Food and coffee is more important to me than your radioactive muggle contraption."

"What if I find a used one?"

"And just where do you propose to find a used one?" Severus asked as they found the lightbulbs. He didn't like the idea of a used microwave. He didn't trust the strange muggle technology when it was new and in good repair.

"A consignment or pawn shop? The Salvation Army? A church rummage sale? A garage sale? The ads in the paper?" Harry shrugged. "Pick one."

"What in Merlin is this?" Severus asked, deliberately sidestepping the subject as he picked up a strange looking lightbulb. It looked like a coiled tube, reminding him of a pig's tail. As far as he could tell, it was filled with gas rather than a glowing element.

"CFL, compact florescent. They're expensive, but last a lot longer and use less energy. And if you put one in a microwave and turn it on, it'll glow."

Severus put it back, vowing to allow neither microwave nor CFL in his home.

* * *

Harry decided he didn't like grocery shopping with the other boy. He stopped to read every package, carefully comparing prices, ingredients, calories, and calculating dietary fiber. It was a slow and somewhat tedious process.

"These seem to provide the most nutrition for the money," Severus said as he held up a big bag of mixed dehydrated beans. "Do you know how to cook this?"

"You soak the beans overnight, then boil them. Don't cook them in anything acidic, like tomato sauce."

Severus threw several bags in the basket. Whole grain brown rice and dehydrated lentils followed. Harry scrunched up his nose. Beans, whole grain pasta, rice, and lentils? "What about meat? Can we get some chicken to put in the rice?"

"Meat is an unnecessary luxury."

"What about protein? Isn't that healthy? Don't we need it?" Harry asked, trying to appeal to the other boy's logical side.

"Lentils combined with whole grains contain equivalent protein, plus more nutrients."

"From plants? That can't be true. I don't believe it."

"Facts care nothing for beliefs. It's true regardless what you believe."

Harry thought about something for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. "You're not exactly a vegetarian, but you'd prefer not to eat meat either."

"I've never thought about it, but I suppose that's true enough. Dissecting animals for ingredients or testing dark potions on them have left me with little appetite for meat."

Harry scrunched up his nose, recalling the jar of eyeballs he saw in the other boy's collection of ingredients. He changed the subject. "Do you have a rice cooker?"

"A what now?"

Harry sighed. "You know, to cook the rice in. That blue thing Aunt Petunia had in the cupboard by the blender—the thing she makes margaritas in."

He searched his memory. How had his mother cooked the rice? Didn't she just boil it in an old pot of water on the stove? "What's wrong with a pot?"

"Never mind. Can we at least buy some broth to cook the rice in?"

"Perhaps. What about cream of mushroom? I like that. Will that work?"

"Ug, no." Harry pulled a face. "No more mushroom soup."

* * *

Harry decided he didn't like potions.

The textbook sounded interesting, and he found a lot of neat stuff besides color changing potions, but the other boy made studying the subject tedious.

"I don't think paint for a room costs that much, does it?" Harry grumbled from behind the dusty old book, ready to quit the endeavor.

"I've no idea how much muggle paint costs," Severus absently said, not looking up from his notes scattered on the desk. They were written on loose sheets of parchment, and the other boy was busy condensing and transcribing his findings onto a big magical leather-bound journal book with a feather quill. It was all written in that fancy cursive writing Harry could barely decipher, and in special ink the other boy said he made.

"Why don't you just leave your notes as they are?"

"I've condensed this research thus far to its pertinent points and am documenting the findings. Someday I may submit these notes to an academic journal or to the International Potions Guild for a patent."

"I still don't get it. A pen and paper is easier to use."

"I've told you that writing, the act of putting thoughts to parchment, is a subtle form of magic for wizardry. It leaves an imprint that can be identified and dated. Potioners often invent and mix their own unique ink blend to amplify this effect. This ensures credit for my work isn't stolen should I submit a research paper or apply for a patent in the future."

"So this is for your mood potion? You're gonna get a patent for that?"

"That research is too far in its early stages." Severus sighed, becoming irritated at the number of questions. Suddenly, it struck him, this could be a way to broach a subject he'd been meaning to bring up to the boy. "No, this is in regards to a potion I researched last summer, one used to reduce one's physical age."

"That's possible?" Harry asked.

"As it turns out, yes," Severus paused for a second before answering, curious to see if the boy would put the clues together. "Though it requires ingredients normally not available to the average brewer. Dragon's blood is cost prohibitive to most, and the one Philosopher's Stone in existence was inimitable."

"Dragons?" Harry gasped, excited. "Dragons are real? Have you ever seen one? What are they like? Do they really breathe fire?"

Severus studied the boy, his eyes intensely calculating. To a wizard, the legendary Philosopher's Stone would be the interesting part of his statement. The boy still thought like a muggle, and likely never heard of the legendary stone. "Yes."

"Cool!"

"Dragon's blood is a potent, expensive, and restricted ingredient. Previously, there were twelve known uses for it. This research is in regards to a thirteenth use, specifically in age altering potions." He waited again, but the boy's attention was still fixated on dragons.

"Have you ever seen a real live dragon?"

"No, merely photos or dragon-based implements and potion ingredients," he paused again. Apparently the boy wasn't going to put the clues together today. "If you get around to researching that color changing potion we may utilize an old pair of dragon hide gloves."

"But you said the potion I found was daft," Harry muttered dejectedly and a little hurt.

"That would be because it was idiotic. The temporary hair dye potion you presented me will not work. Try again. There's a better potion out there."

"You know what potion I need, don't you?" Harry accused.

"Do I?" Severus asked dismissively, turning back to his journal. Because of the bond, the boy already knew the answer to his question. He simply hadn't realized it on a conscious level. In fact, the boy probably subconsciously knew about their age difference. Without realizing it, he had fallen into a subordinate role in their relationship, similar to that of a child and mentor.

"Yes," Harry thought about it for a second. "You're trying to trick me into studying the potions book."

"Is it working?"

"It did, 'til you sucked the fun out of it, like some kind of fun sucking vampire."

"Perhaps if you take the book to your room my 'fun sucking condition' won't be an issue!" Severus irritably snapped. How could the brat be so perceptive and clueless at the same time? "Go. Let me document the research in peace."

"You're moody all the sudden," Harry huffed, crossing his arms. "Run out of those crazy pills?"

"I've an adequate supply for the next several weeks," Severus glared. He'd never admit it aloud to the boy, but the muggle pharmaceuticals took the edge off the intensity of his emotions, making him feel 'normal.' He found himself rarely using occlumency to dull the intensity of his bursts. "Now go amuse yourself, or I may decide to quit taking them and give them to you instead."

Finally the boy sulked out of the room, potions text in hand, muttering something about vampires.

The child was getting bored without structured schoolwork or chores. The lack of interaction with other people was having an effect too. While he was content here by himself, Harry was a social creature. To thrive he needed people, friends, a social structure of some sort. He'd have to find a solution.

Perhaps Dumbledore was busy arranging for a return to the Dursley's? Severus suppressed a cringe. He hated it there, but the misery would only last until next September. No. he dismissed the idea as quickly as it came. He'd find a way to deal with the boy here.

* * *

"This potion is better, but won't quite work," Severus commented as he glanced at the potion Harry found. The boy was getting closer. The next color changing potion in the textbook was one intended for changing the color of dye in clothing, and could be modified for the pigments in muggle paint. "This potion is used to change the color of pigments prior to application. It becomes ineffective on dry medium. You need something capable of changing the paint pigments on a dry object."

He could tell the boy was getting frustrated, and thus in danger of quitting before he started.

"The walls are fine the way they are," Harry said dejectedly as he poured a bag of beans into a bowl to soak for tomorrow's dinner.

"I suppose it's best we wait until next year to perform magic." Severus shrugged, carefully watching the boy's reactions. As expected the Harry's head popped up and his eyes glittered at the coveted 'm' word. "You're a bit young yet, and magic shouldn't be done outside of school."

"I'm the same age as you!" Harry bit out indignantly as he rinsed the beans under the tap. "You're only a few months older!"

"Am I?"

"Yes!" Harry passed, but only for a split second. "And 'sides, you said some types of magic, like potions, can't be detected!"

"That's true. Wandless magics cannot be detected by the ministry through normal means. That doesn't make underage magic any less legal. If you wish to practice magic you're limited to potions, as the other wandless subjects are too advanced."

As expected Harry glanced at the text sitting on the table with renewed interest. The boy wanted to practice magic, to 'be like Stevie.'

Harry asked as he pulled a muggle instrument from a cupboard. Severus had seen it before, but couldn't recall seeing his mother use it. "So, when is your birthday?"

The question was unexpected, taking Severus by surprise. "January ninth."

"Last week?" Harry began scraping off the skins of the potatoes with the mysterious instrument. Severus wondered if the muggle peeler would work on shrivelfigs.

"I suppose it was," he said, glancing at the charmed calendar on the kitchen wall. "What is that thing?"

Harry laughed. "You've never seen a potato peeler before?"

"No." He thought back. His mother had limited magic, but she had procured a magical paring knife from somewhere. "Most witches, my mother included, use a charmed knife."

Harry silently peeled for several moments, with efficiency and practiced movements. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"Want?"

"Yeah, want, you know, for your birthday present."

"For you to brew a color changing potion without blowing up my kitchen," he absently replied as he picked up the Prophet and a muggle biro. He began the crossword puzzle in the back. He glanced at the clock, to time himself.

"No, really," Harry said as he threw a blob of butter into the frying pan. As it melted, he began cutting the potatoes into cubes. "Didn't you say that the eleventh birthday was special for wizards?"

"It marks a legal eligibility to buy a wand, thus the beginning of a child's magical education." Severus looked up from his crossword at the chopping sound. "No, not that way. Practice cutting the cubes evenly, each no bigger than half an inch. Uniformity will help your potions brewing next year."

Harry huffed irritably at the picky boy, sure it didn't matter, but complied without argument. "So are you gonna buy a new wand?"

"Yes. We'll both need wands that are legally registered with the ministry for school use."

"When can I get one?"

"Next August."

"But that's forever away! Can I try one of yours until then?"

"No, and I believe I've threatened to chop off your fingers if you ever touch one of them."

Harry huffed irritably again.

"Like the portkey, wanded magic is for emergencies only. You know this. You may practice wish, wandless, and theory all you want."

"When I was little I could unlock my cupboard just by thinking about it. You mean stuff like that?"

"Yes, though the capacity for wish and accidental magic normally ends with mental and physical maturity. Most children lose the ability by the time they turn eleven. A few individuals, such as Albus Dumbledore and the Dark Lord, retain the ability into adulthood."

"Will I?"

"Perhaps," Severus hedged. Like himself, it was doubtful the boy would completely ever grow out of accidental magic. He was too powerful. "Though the mental discipline required for directed wandless magic appears contrary to your personality."

 _Contrary to my personality?_ Harry was hurt. He stopped chopping to study the other boy. Was he being called stupid?

"No, I'm not calling you stupid," Severus answered the unspoken question. "Not everybody can be blessed with the mental discipline of the Great Albus Dumbledore. You'll simply have to work harder at something that comes naturally to few individuals."

"But you can do it. I've seen you."

"Yes, but you possess an emotional and intuitive creativeness I'll never have. As a consequence, I doubt you'll fully grow out of wish magic, something I'm incapable of."

"So what's the difference?"

"Wandless magic is the conscious and precise manipulation of magic that is normally done with a wand. It requires mental discipline and focus. Wish magic isn't well understood, and most lose the ability by the time they receive their first wand. It requires both strength of want and large magical reserves. Furthermore, it's normally discouraged in children as the results are draining, unpredictable, and lacking in precision and dexterity."

"So what's the difference between that and accidental magic?"

"Accidental magic is instinctual. It's without intent, and is usually in response to strong emotion. Wish magic requires both intent and want. The time you found yourself on the school roof was accidental magic. Opening your cupboard door was wish magic."

Harry thought about that for a moment. The other boy definitely felt strong emotion, but he didn't seem to know what to do with those feelings. As a result, he tended to bottle them up with that occlumency stuff or ignore them. "If it's possible for me to lean the discipline for wandless magic, then isn't it possible for you to learn wish magic?"

Severus glared at the boy. Albus Dumbledore had hypothesized the same thing years ago. He didn't need the little brat lecturing him as well.

With the intuitive grasp the other boy mentioned, Harry sensed that it was time to let the subject drop. "You still haven't answered my question. What do you want for your birthday?"

"I require nothing."

Harry finished cubing the last of the potatoes and threw them in the buttered skillet. "It's not supposed to be something you need, but something fun, something you want."

"Fun is a synonym for wasteful."

"Syn-a-what? C'mon, let's a least get a cake and ice cream to celebrate."

"Unnecessary; needless; pointless; frivolous; inane; lavish. Pick a 'synonym'. No."

"How about a new book? One of those nerdy boring ones you like so much?"

"No."

"You need new trousers," Harry said as he pointed at the black slacks Severus wore with his spatula. His ankles were poking out of the bottom hem by an inch. "We can buy you a new pair."

"That can wait a bit. I believe my brief growth spurt has slowed for now. You however appear to be in the midst of one, no doubt spurred by that nutritional potion," Severus answered logically. "It won't be long until the clothing I'm currently wearing fits you."

"Oh yay," Harry grumbled, picturing himself wearing the funny looking slacks and robes other boy favored and frowned. "I'd prefer to pick out my own style, thanks."

"If you procure the funds you may waste it however you wish," Severus shrugged. The boy could waste his inheritance on muggle fashions if he wanted—so long as there was enough money left over to last him into adulthood.

"I'd hardly call several pairs of needed jeans and a couple of shirts a big waste."

"You'll need robes for seven years of school," Severus said as he turned his attention back to his crossword puzzle. "You'd be better off spending your money on that instead."

Harry eyed the stuffy-looking robes favored by the other boy, and thought back the blindingly bright robes the old Dumbledore guy wore. "I'd prefer to wear normal clothes, thanks."

* * *

"No you imbecilic nitwit!"

Harry glared at the insult, but knew the other boy well enough not to take it too personally. It still stung a bit though.

"Don't toss the knotgrass in like you're making soup! Sprinkle it in, slowly. Stir widdershins, one stir every five seconds." Severus picked up the chopped dehydrated grass and demonstrated. "Give it time to absorb into the liquid."

Harry studied the instructions. "It doesn't say to do that. It just says to add it."

"The author of this text assumes a base level of common sense on the part of the brewer."

"How is widder-whatever common sense?"

"Had you studied the first chapter, you'd understand that dehydrated ingredients should be added slowly. Furthermore, as the knotgrass is used to mute the effects of the lacewings, it is to be stirred widdershins, or counter clock-wise."

"And how am I supposed to know _that_?" Harry indignantly huffed as he stirred. The cauldron sat on the old gas stovetop burner. The liquid inside bubbled cheerfully, a pleasant blueish green color.

"Chapter two, titled Common Interactions of Basic Ingredients, two thirds through the chapter."

"Do you have that stupid book memorized?" Harry glanced up from the cauldron to study the other boy curiously.

"I've read it several times," he said, not mentioning that he taught out of the same book for nearly a decade. He knew it front to back, inside out.

"I find that sad," Harry quipped. "Didn't you have something better to read?"

"I don't have to waste my time helping you brew this potion," Severus groused. "I could leave you to figure it out on your own."

"At least you won't call me a nitwit then," Harry mumbled as he sprinkled in the last of the knotgrass.

"Are you sure about that?" Severus asked. "What's the next step?"

Harry looked at the book. "We let it simmer."

"Do you add a lid to the cauldron while it simmers? Reduce or increase the heat? How long?"

"The instructions doesn't say," Harry replied, thinking about it. "If I don't cover it and increase the heat, the water will evaporate out of it, concentrating it, thickening it."

"So you can use logical deduction after all," Severus muttered. "Leave the lid off for a darker color. Put it on for the same shade. Reduce the heat for a lighter shade. Add more water with reduce heat to lighten it more."

Harry looked at the color. "It's about the shade I want. Let's just cover it."

"Very well."

Harry eyed the array of potion ingredients and equipment on the counter, including a set of fancy brass scales that looked well used but expensive. "Where'd you get all of this stuff?"

"I gathered most of the ingredients myself from a greenhouse last summer. However these are basic ingredients found at most apothecaries, often preassembled into kits for students. The brass scales, stirring rod set, brass measuring cups, and pewter cauldron are student grade equipment I inherited from my mother. I intended to give them to you for school next year."

"Thank you, but what about you?" Harry blinked in surprise. He didn't understand why or how, but he knew the equipment meant a lot to the other boy. "Are you buying new?"

"Due to the magical nature of potions, used equipment often yields better results. In any case, I've a more precise set of stainless steel scales, a ceramic coated brass cauldron, and precise measuring glassware I intend to use." It was a higher grade of equipment he recommended for his NEWT students, but didn't require due to the expense.

"So do I brush this slop on the wall?" Harry wrinkled his nose. The potion stank, and was a bit chunky. Would it stink up his new room?

"No. We will strain it and bottle it."

Again, the instructions in the book didn't say anything about that. "How?"

"Look in the bottom cupboard. There should be a number of muggle canning jars," Severus said as he produced the fine meshed reusable coffee filter from the coffee maker. "Get out three of the smallest size. Put them in the pot of water and set it to boil."

Harry did so.

"No! Take the lids off first, you dunderhead!" Severus shouted. "Are you trying to kill me? Do you _want_ them to explode in our faces?"

Harry blinked in surprise at the burst of vitriol, but took it in good stride.

"Cloth is traditionally used, but I've had better results with muggle implements," he tossed the reusable coffee filter into the boiling water with the jars. The plastic on it was a bit warped from previous boilings. "This can be heated and sterilized. Paper coffee filters work better, but are for potions that don't require long term storage. I'll show you both."

"This sounds an awful lot like how Aunt Petunia makes preserves. Slimy, gross preserves."

Severus glared, not knowing what the boy was babbling about. "Splatter it on my countertop Mister Potter and—"

"And you'll thank me for improving your grotty old orange and green Formica?" Harry finished without missing a beat.

Severus glared.

"Yeah, I know. You already told me. You'll chop my fingers off if I mess up your ugly countertops. Sometimes you're worse than Aunt Petunia."

"This potion is suitable for painted walls, paper, or clothing, but not surfaces food is prepared on." Severus congratulated himself for ignoring the insult. "Let the jars soak in the boiling water."

"So how does it work?" Harry asked. "Do I paint it on the wall? We'll need to make more."

"You've more than enough."

"But there's only about a liter in the pot. That'll never work."

"It's called a cauldron and you're still thinking like a muggle," Severus criticized. "Spread the shirt on top the wax paper."

"It's black," Harry pointed at the black cotton polo Severus gave made Aunt Patina buy for him some months earlier. "Shouldn't I use a white one?"

"For pity's sake, Potter! Didn't you bother to read about the potion? White will not work."

"Fine," Harry huffed, irritated. "And I did read it. It just didn't make much sense."

Severus bit back a well-earned insult. "Take the eyedropper and place a drop of potion on your shirt."

"Just one?"

"Are you deaf?"

"Fine, one drop." As soon as the drop hit the fabric, the blue color spread, racing out from the center of the drop. A single drop was enough for the whole shirt. "Cool!"

"Cool indeed," Severus sighed. "Now put a drop on the newspaper."

The drop was absorbed, then spread through the newspaper. Only it changed the color of the ink. The paper underneath remained the same color. "Neat-o!"

"Yes, neat indeed," Severus dryly repeated, almost bored. "What can you conclude?"

Harry shrugged. "It's neat?"

"And?"

Harry glanced at the eyedropper. The glass dropper was still clear, but the black rubber blub was now blue. "It only changes color that's already there?"

"Are you asking or telling me?"

"Telling?"

Severus sighed. "It only changes pigments. It will not have worked on a white shirt as it lacked coloring pigments. It also will not have worked on your walls or my countertops had we not added the knotgrass. Can you hazard a guess why?"

Harry thought about it for a moment. "The countertop is plastic-y. It can't absorb the potion without it. The paint on the wall is made from latex, which can't absorbed the potion without the knotgrass?"

"Close. The paint is old and likely made of oils and metallic-based pigments. The paint can't normally absorb the hydrophilic potion."

"It's lead paint?" Harry apprehensively asked, ignoring the new word, wide eyed as he looked at the walls. "Isn't lead poisonous?"

"A neurotoxin, yes. Don't lick the walls and you'll be fine."

Harry blinked. Lick the walls? "What about dust, chips, and flakes?"

"I suggest you keep your room well dusted. In fact, the whole house could use regular such cleaning, especially my bookshelves," Severus smirked. His mother remediated the muggle poisons decades ago, but the boy didn't have to know that.

Harry knew the other boy well enough to suspect he was trying to trick him into cleaning. "I think I'll risk it, thanks."

"Tell me if you notice white lines transverseing your fingernails and I'll give you a potion for lead exposure," Severus sneered, but without much bite. "In any case, if I were you, I'd be more concerned about the asbestos."

Harry blinked. He had no idea if the older boy was joking or not.

* * *

"Hey Corvus," Harry greeted the big raven. It sat on the fence and stared at him with its creepy beady eyes. For several long moments they regarded each other, measuring the other up. Finally, Harry tore off a corner of his piece of toast and threw it at the bird.

The bird seemed to have claimed the house as its territory, chasing off other birds. The other day, Harry saw it dive-bomb a stray cat until it ran away.

"How does Corvus know not to chase off the owl that delivers your newspaper?" Harry asked Severus as the bird studied the bread suspiciously. Finally, after several moments the bird swooped down and picked it up in its beak.

Severus shrugged as he surveyed the plants growing along the fence. "Magic."

"Why are you looking at the weeds? It's winter. Nothing's growing."

"If nothing's growing, then why did you need to cut the grass? Why is it still green?"

It was Harry's turn to shrug.

"A number of potion ingredients are commonly harvested in winter. Winter aconite, narcissus bulbs, witch hazel bark and buds, all grow along the property line. I'm curious to see what's survived your indiscriminate hacking."

Harry shrugged again. "I thought they were weeds, so I cut them back."

"There's nothing to be done for it now." When he sent Harry out to cut the grass a week ago he'd given no thought to his small patch of ingredients that had long since gone wild. Thankfully the boy haden taken the time to pull the 'weeds' out by the root. He simply ran the plants over with the mower. "Most will rapidly grow back from the rhizome or bulb now they're not being choked by the grass."

"But why bother?" Harry asked. "What are those weeds good for?"

"Those 'weeds' are common ingredients that can be vended to apothecaries. Top quality potions ingredients cannot be grown en masse in conservatories. While suitable for students, wholesale industrialization impacts the magical potency of some ingredients. Thus, there's a lucrative market to be had."

Harry had no idea what the other boy was talking about. He guessed, "you can sell those plants?"

"Is that not what I just said?"

"I'm not sure," Harry huffed irritably. He didn't understand half the things the other boy said. He looked at the raven on the fence. It was hungrily eyeing the rest of the buttered toast in his hand. Harry quickly shoved it into his mouth, sure the bird the bird would steal it from his hand otherwise. It cawed unhappily, the sound creepy and harsh in the decaying neighborhood.

* * *

Severus's eyes snapped open and his heart raced with fear.

Fear? What had startled him awake? Why was he afraid? He listened, the house was silent and still. As far as he knew, he hadn't been dreaming. Another wave of fear washed over him along with a vague impression of green light. As suddenly as it came, the impression ended, leaving him confused. What was that?

A soft knock at his bedroom door answered his question. It quietly opened, revealing a wide eyed and shaky Harry Potter. "Are you awake?"

"It appears that I am."

"I had a bad dream," Harry crept closer to Severus's bed, and the moonlight was enough for him to study the boy. He looked sweaty and the inflamed scar on his forehead stood out against his pale skin. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

Snape hesitated, tempted to send the boy back to his own bed. He knew if he let the boy into his bed, the child would want to talk about his dream.

"Please? I'll be quiet. I promise."

"Fine," Severus scooted over, making room, knowing they had differing definitions of 'quiet'.

Almost afraid the other boy would change his mind, Harry quickly climbed in. He settled in quickly. Severus closed his eyes and was about to drift off when Harry spoke.

"I dreamed about this big old mansion on top of a hill," Harry whispered, his voice still a bit shaky. "It was old, run down, haunted looking. It even had a creepy graveyard. And there was this old guy that worked there, a groundskeeper maybe."

Severus suppressed a sigh. He had no interest in the boy's silly dream. "You don't say."

"The old guy saw the lights on in the mansion from his little shed. He grabbed his keys, a flashlight, and was cursing as he climbed the hill to the house. I think he thought kids broke in and he wanted to chase them off. He passed the graveyard on his way, and it looked creepy."

"Hm," Severus muttered noncommittally. He felt himself began to drift off to sleep again.

"He unlocked the back door and went inside. He went up the stairs to where he saw the lights. It looked like an old library, and there was a fire in the fireplace. Standing in front of it was that creepy guy we saw in the park that day, reading a book in his hands."

Severus rolled over, hoping the boy would take the hint and shut up.

"He looked up from the book and his eyes were red, glowing. The old guy asked him who he was, and told him if he didn't leave that he was going to call the police. The creepy guy smiled at the old man, and told him that his name was Tom Riddle."

Severus's eyes snapped open and he felt his body stiffen.

"He pointed his wand at the old man, and said abracadabra. A green light filled the room and the old guy fell to the ground, dead. His eyes were open, staring. That's when I woke up, my forehead hurting."

"Go to sleep. It's just a dream."

"It felt real," Harry yawned, and then idly scratch at his scar. The inflammation had gone down, and it looked like it usually did. "Like a part of me was really there."

"I know."

The boy easily dropped off to sleep again, leaving Severus to stare into dark room, lost in thought. He never got back to sleep.


	17. Corvus Corax

Chapter 16

Corvus Corax

* * *

Severus tiredly watched as Harry glumly eyed the last of his breakfast. The boy hated the nutritious whole grain flakes, not being buried in sugar like the crap Petunia fed Dudley. He amused himself by imagining the tooth decay and premature heart disease the he was likely to suffer. He could make a potion to cure it, but wouldn't.

"What are you smirking about?" Harry grumbled around one last mouthful of cereal. "Next time we go to the store I'm getting a bit of sugar."

"With what money?" It was becoming a common argument. Harry wanted things he wasn't willing to buy. The boy had better not begin prattling on about that stupid microwave he wanted…..

"It's not fair that you get to pick out what we buy."

"If life was fair I wouldn't be charged for your upkeep from my meager savings," Severus lectured over his coffee cup. "My money has to last another seven years."

Harry glared over his cereal. The unspoken 'who put you in charge?' was left unsaid. "Even so, you still get to pick out things you want, like your coffee. You don't need coffee. It'll stunt your growth."

"Nonsense. That's an old wives' tale. My money, my rules."

"But still, it's something we don't need, it tastes nasty, but you get to buy it anyway."

Severus sighed. "Fine. You can utilize the equivalent amount of money I spend on coffee on something you want."

Harry glanced at the big bulk-sized tin of coffee sitting on the counter. "How long does that tin last?"

"A bit over a month, maybe two if I stretch it."

"But you make a pot every day! Sometimes two!"

"One scoop makes a pot. There's about forty scoops in the can. However, you can add half a scoop to old grounds to make it last longer."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "And the paper filters?"

Severus dug a muggle coin out of his pocket and tossed it to Harry. The boy deftly snatched out of the air. "Here, this should cover the cost of the filters for the next six months."

"Twenty pence?"

"Five hundred a package. However I occasionally use them to filter potions. Go get the receipt," he said as he shoved a pad of paper and a pencil across the table to the boy. "If you figure out how much money I spend on coffee per day, I'll give you the equivalent amount to waste as you wish."

"You just want me to study math!"

"Do I?" He raised an eyebrow, and stared at the boy. He knew the intense look tended to make the boy uncomfortable. He enjoyed watching him squirm.

"Yes! You could do it yourself in your head! You know exactly how much your coffee costs per day!"

"It's not beyond your capabilities." He resisted the urge to make a snarky comment about how dividing ten quid by sixty days was hardly mentally taxing to anyone with half a brain. "You can do it."

"It's like that stupid potion you made me learn all over again!"

"What color are your bedroom walls?"

Harry glared. "Blue."

"What color did you want them to be?"

"Blue."

"Not only did you get the blue walls you wanted, I helped you gain the skills needed to brew and preserve a simple potion. Many children do not learn this until mid-way through their second year of Hogwarts. Furthermore, we modified the potion, something not taught until sixth year."

Harry continued to glare, but grabbed the receipt off the counter. "It cost nine ninety-five."

"Round it up to ten."

"Fine. Ten."

"Now divide it into two months, sixty days."

Harry wrote it out, but seemed to be stumped by the longhand division. "Got a calculator?"

"Wizards don't use electronics like calculators," Severus snorted disdainfully.

"Why not?"

Severus thought back to the antique abacus in his office. He often used it in adjusting complex potion formulas. "Battery powered electronics are worthless in the presence of large amounts of magic. The smaller the device, the more susceptible it is."

"But what about those solar powered calculators?"

"Enough!" Oddly, this wasn't the first time he had this conversation. Every year some muggle born child seemed perplexed by longhand division without a calculator. The abacus left them even more confused. He refused to waste valuable class time by playing math professor, and often sent said child to find a tutor—after a detention and point loss. "Math isn't your strongest subject, but you'll need to know it for potions."

Harry stared at the paper, dejected. Hogwarts hadn't even started, and he could feel himself hating potions. It sounded like a neat subject, but the other boy sucked the fun out of it—just like he sucked the fun out of a lot of things.

"Think of the problem as a fraction if it helps. Ten sixtieth or one sixth."

"No, that doesn't help!" Harry grumbled, more confused than ever. How had this turned into a fraction? Fractions were worse than long division! And what if there was one of those mysterious remainders? What then? What would he do with it? "You like to suck the fun out of everything by turning it into either a math or potion lesson, don't you?"

"Hogwarts assumes that by the age of eleven students have the basic rudimentary skills needed for seven years of magical education. This includes reading, writing, and basic mathematics. As I've no wish to be seen with a dunderhead, you've a bit of catching up to do if you wish to excel at magic." As much as he hated to admit it, muggle mathematics appeared more advanced. However, the muggles depended on electronic crutches like calculators. This had left most of his muggle born students lost without. He refused to let the little nitwit in his charge be in that situation.

* * *

"Happy late birthday!" Harry gleefully chanted as he placed a casserole dish on the table. "I made your favorite! Cream of mushroom casserole surprise!"

"That's not my favorite and today isn't my birthday," Severus grumbled, pretending not to be pleased. He did like foods with cream of mushroom. The casserole smelled more edible than what he made several days ago, almost like what remembered his mum made. "What's in it?"

"Leftover potatoes, eggs, rice, beans, several tins of tuna, all topped with breadcrumbs and cheese. Oh and your nasty Cream of Mushroom, all baked for several hours. Thrifty and gross, just the way you like it."

"Huh." Severus took a bite. Harry could tell that the other boy liked it, just from the lack of snarky criticism alone. He knew the older boy _really_ liked it when he helped himself to seconds.

"We're out of food again. We need to go to the store."

"What happened to it all?" Severus did a mental tally of the meals the last week. Surely they didn't go through it all so soon?

"You ate it," Harry said around a mouthful. "We're out of milk, eggs, tuna, and bread. There's some cheese and butter left, but that won't last us for long. If I had some flour I could thicken the casserole better and make pancakes. Oh, and I want some sugar."

"There's bags of beans left. Rice too."

Harry scrunched up his nose. "We can't just eat that and nothing else."

"Fine," Severus hated to admit it, but the boy's food was better than anything he made for himself. "We can go tomorrow."

* * *

"Whucha making?" Harry asked as he plopped down at the table the several days later, to eat breakfast. He wanted to fry up some cheesy scrambled eggs, but he noted with disappointment that the stove was already in use with yet another of those nasty potions. There were two other working burners, but he knew the other boy wouldn't let him use them while brewing. Icky cereal it was. At least he had his sugar.

"McCarthy's Avian Elixir," Severus absently replied as he sprinkled a handful of chopped up and dried _something_ into the caldron on the stovetop burners. "It's in chapter twenty-nine of the intermediate potions text, towards the back of the book if you wish to learn more."

"Fascinating," Harry dryly muttered, making no attempt to hide the sarcasm as he grabbed the box of cereal off the table and poured a bowl. "I'll just save that for some light reading before bedtime. I'm all aflutter to find out. I do love a potions mystery."

Harry watched as the other boy tossed a bit of this and that into the old cauldron with practiced ease. After a bit, he set it to simmer after setting a kitchen timer. "But seriously, what does it do?"

"I wouldn't want to spoil your fun," Severus smirked as he sat down to his own breakfast. "Seriously."

Harry glared.

"Put a bit of that leftover casserole in a small dish for Corvus."

"Why?"

"If I told you, I'd rob you of 'fun'. What's the term you use to describe me?" Severus pretended to think about it for a second. "A 'fun sucking vampire', was it?"

"Dish out your own casserole and feed it to the bird yourself."

"And here I thought you wanted to learn about magic."

As expected, the 'M' word caught Harry's attention. "Magic? Real magic?"

Harry didn't know why, but he felt like those were the wrong choice of words to use if he wanted to avoid irritating the other boy.

"Believe it or not, the bulk of magic is done without foolish wand waving," Severus grumbled, lecturing. "The charms and spells one incants with a wand is but a fraction of the magic available for our use. "One just needs the strength of will and discipline the harness it."

"Oh," Harry tentatively said, trying to avoid the lecture he knew was to come.

"Potions; various mind magics; wandless magics; divination; arithmancy; numerology; herbology; runic magics; most ritualistic and warding magics; and bonding magic do not require a wand for most practices. Many make the foolish mistake of not considering them to be true magics. In fact, most wandless magics are stronger, more profound, and longer lasting than the 'tricks' produced by foolish wand waving."

"Fine," Harry grumble to shut the boy up. "I get it, wands aren't everything."

"No you don't, not yet. That'll come with age," Severus grumbled. "But someday you well."

Harry rolled his eyes. "So, are you telling me or not? What's the potion for?"

"Do you know why wizards use owls to carry their mail? Why we don't use other birds when owls make poor familiars?"

"No." Harry blinked in confusion at the sudden change of subject. "I never thought about it."

"Large owls do well in low temperatures, but are often unable to cope with the heat of summer and daylight," Severus lectured. "They're intelligent enough to learn verbal commands, but lack an innate social nature required for domestication. They're undomesticated, have a cranky and aloof disposition, and are unsanitary. In short, they make piss-poor pets."

"If they're so bad, then why use them?"

"They're highly attuned to the magic that permeates our world. This makes them receptive to the potions required to force them into doing our bidding."

"So you're making a postal owl potion?" Harry glance out the window. As usual, the raven sat in its spot on the fence, watching the back door, seemingly waiting for one of them to bring a treat. "For Corvus?"

As Harry's attention was elsewhere, Severus snuck a spoonful of sugar for his cereal.

"Yes," Severus gave the contents of his cereal bowl a swirl and a taste. It did taste a lot better, but he'd never let Harry know he was right. "The bird appears to be receptive to magic, much like an owl. Rare, but not unheard of in ravens. I'd thought about trying this for a while now, but didn't have the inclination before now."

"Won't Pepper get jealous?" The boy didn't notice the pilfered sugar.

"Pepper's an owl. Don't anthropomorphize her."

Harry scrunched his nose at the big word, and an undercurrent of unspoken emotion coming from the other boy. "I've no idea what that means."

"Pepper is a wild animal that's been magically manipulated into imitating the behavior of a magical familiar. I doubt she's truly capable of complex emotions such as jealously," Severus explained clinically. "Pepper is old and ready for retirement. She'll be fine at Hogwarts with the other owls."

"But you're sad about this."

"A bit," Severus admitted, biting back the irritation at the boy's perceptiveness into his emotional state. The boy had been attuned to him for a while now, but Harry's insights always surprised him. "I've had her for a long time, and she was old when I got her."

"Can't she just stay here with us?"

"No. She needs several square miles to hunt in, daily. Owls like her are common enough in the wizarding world, but conspicuous to English muggles. We'll see her again in the fall, at Hogwarts. We'll visit her there."

Harry nodded, before returning to his breakfast. He ate in silence for a long moment as Severus polished off his own breakfast. "So the potion will make Corvus act like an owl?"

"I'd tell you, but I wouldn't want to spoil your bedtime reading."

"C'mon."

"The potion only works if the animal is receptive to magic," Severus vaguely replied with a smirk. They both glanced through the window at the bird. It was perched in its usual spot on the fence, waiting for one of them. "The raven has been following me for several years now, much like a familiar. This potion may be unnecessary, but will streamline the process outlined in your book."

Harry glared over his breakfast, but the look was halfhearted, lacking true ire. The older boy was always trying to get him to study boring stuff.

"The raven will better blend into the muggle neighborhood. They're not commonly used as postal carriers as their intelligence makes them too willful. Also, they're normally not as receptive to magic as your average owl. Corvus seems to be an exception."

"I don't remember seeing Corvus at the Dursleys."

"You wouldn't have. Corvus wouldn't have been able to find me there due to the wards over your aunt's house."

"Your owl was able to find you."

"That's a bit different. Pepper is a trained postal owl, bespelled to find me. Corvus is a wild animal that happens to be attracted to magic. Eventually he may have found me. More likely he would have moved on to do whatever it is ravens do."

"How old is he? How long do ravens live for?"

Severus shrugged. "About five years old, still a teen. The ravens at the tower of London have been known to live over forty years."

"Forty years? That can't be true."

"Potter, you idiot."

* * *

Severus held out the dish towards the bird. The casserole was inside, mixed along with the potion. Next to him, Harry excitedly watched.

"Here, you feed it to Corvus," Severus said, coming to a snap decision. He handed to dish to the boy before the bird moved towards it. This should keep the boy busy. "Keep your fingers clear of that beak. Hold the dish and wait. The bird needs to freely consume the proffered potion."

Harry smiled as he took the shallow bowl to the fence. The bird was a bit leery, but eyed it hungry. It didn't take much coaxing to get the bird to eat from the dish Harry held. "Is that it? Is he a postal bird now?"

"Hardly. You'll repeat this process for a week. Make sure he consumes the potion as you're holding the container. After, he'll need to be acclimated to human contact. Then you'll begin training him not to defecate in my house and tearing up my books. After, you can begin training him to carry small packages for short distances. If he has proven to be reliable, then he may be used for delivering mail."

Harry blinked. The bird was now his responsibility to take care of and train? How'd that happen?

"You'll need to make more of the potion," Severus said. "It'll keep for only a day or so."

"Can't we just put it in the fridge?"

"What's the matter with you? Potions do not belong in the fridge! Basic laboratory hygiene, chapter one of the book I asked you to read."

"You just want me to learn about your yucky potions!" Harry huffed. "'sides, you're making it in the kitchen, on the stove and counter where I cook. You're even making it while I was eating breakfast. What's the difference?"

"Where do you suggest I brew? The dungeons? The laboratory hidden in the attic?" The damn boy had a point. Making potions on the muggle cooker was sloppy. If he ever caught his students attempting the same, there'd be hell to pay. "I know what I'm doing, and have taken the proper precautions."

"Is that why the back burner is stained acid green and won't work?"

The glare deepened. "Read the chapter, and then read up on the potion. After, we shall practice your Occlumency. It's been awhile."

The bird on the fence loudly cawed as it extended its wings, flapping them without taking off.

"Corvus thinks we should watch your crappy little black and white television instead."

Severus turned on his heel and marched back into the house, muttering irritably under his breath.

* * *

The television was at least thirty years old. It was small but heavy, black and white, and only had four channels. It may have gotten more channels, but the knob was gummed up and one of the rabbit ears was snapped in half. And every time the washing machine or vacuum was on, the picture got wavy and snowy. Still, it was better than reading one of those boring books.

 _Tap. Tap. Tap, tap, tap._

Harry looked up, expecting to see the owl. Instead, he saw Corvus peering in at him, through the window.

"Let the bird in," Severus said from his desk, as if inviting a raven into your Livingroom was the most natural thing in the world. "Keep it out of the kitchen. Mind, if it craps anywhere you're to clean it up."

"Why do I have to clean that up? It's your bird!"

Tap. Caw. Tap. Tap. Caw.

Severus looked up from his desk, quill in hand, and glasses perched on his large nose. "Try to get him to stay on Pepper's perch. Give him an owl treat if he behaves. If not, send him back outside."

Harry opened the window and the bird ducked in and made himself at home. Sadly, it had no interest in sitting quietly on the perch. Instead, the bird perched itself on the back of Severus's chair as it studied the new surroundings.

Resolutely, Severus did his best to ignore the bird as it played with his hair.

"Corvus thinks you need a haircut."

"I prefer my hair long, like a proper wizard."

"It looks better short," Harry paused, thinking. "It took me a while to figure it out, but I know who you remind me in those robes. You look like that creepy vampire ghost-kid from that cheesy movie last Halloween."

"I've no idea what you're blathering about." Severus usually refused to watch the television, so he had no idea what Harry was babbling about.

"Y'know, Legends of the Catacombs, Memoirs of Dracula's Son."

Severus looked up at Harry, the expression on his face indecipherable. "No, I don't know."

"It even had creepy blackbirds."

"Am I the son of Dracula or a fun sucking vampire? Please enlighten me."

"Can't you be both?"

"Perhaps. Are you sure I don't look like a bat instead?" He parroted one of the more common insults. The boy didn't mean it maliciously, and he didn't mind the teasing from Harry.

"Only when you swoop about in those silly robes."

The bird hopped from the chair to explore the desk. Its attention focused on the feathered quill resting in the inkpot. After a moment of curios scrutiny, the bird snatched it up in its beak and flew out the still open window with its loot. Ink dribbled and sprayed everywhere.

"Dumbledore gave me that quill."

"Look on the bright side. He didn't poop on your desk."

Severus threw an incredulous look at the boy.


	18. Secrets

Chapter 17

Secrets

"To keep in silence I resigned."

* * *

Harry lay in his bed, watching the shadows dance on the wall. Occasionally a car would pass on the street outside below, making the shadows twirl and jump.

The neighborhood as a whole was creepy, but he now considered the run down house to be his home, a better home than the Dursley's house ever was.

Harry gripped the teardrop pendant still hanging around his neck. He'd been practicing, like Stevie told him to do, clearing his mind and focusing on the magic trapped in the pendant. It felt like his grumpy brother, but recently, he felt something else. The magic felt different from Stevie's, subtle, almost imperceptible unless he concentrated super hard.

The pain in his forehead flared briefly, then died back, still there but muted. Harry closed his eyes, used to the sensation. He did his best to keep his mind blank, but it never seemed to help. He drifted off to sleep.

 _The room was dim and dusty, lit by a single candle on the old desk. Old tomes lay about. There was another person in the room, but he couldn't see him. Was he hiding in the shadows, beyond the light of the candle, where he couldn't see him?_

 _"_ _Bone of the father. Blood of the enemy. Flesh of the servant. It will work," the unseen voice said from behind him. The voice was close, almost like a man was standing behind him._

 _"_ _We'll need him by Beltane then," he said, his voice sounding different from what he was used to. "And if you can't find Harry Potter in time?"_

 _"_ _It'll work, My Lord. He'll come to us. The boy has grown close to Severus Snape. He'll want to save him from the curse."_

 _If Harry had his own body, he was sure his heart would stop. Stevie was in danger? From a curse?_

 _"_ _Harry Potter will need to find us by Beltane, or the curse will kill Severus Snape."_

 _'_ _How do I find you?' Harry tried to shout, but he wasn't in control of his own body. Someone else was. 'How do I save Stevie?'_

 _"_ _Severus cannot learn of the curse," the voice said._

 _Harry felt close to panic, but he could do nothing but watch. He wasn't in control of his body. "No. The curse would kill him early if he knew," he replied, his strange voice sounding amused._

Harry's eyes snapped open as laughter echoed through his mind. His heart felt like it'd burst from his chest, it was beating so hard.

"It was just a dream," he whispered to himself as he slid out of bed.

Quietly, he padded across the hall to Stevie's room. Severus's room. He pushed the door open and looked inside. The other boy was awake.

"Another dream?"

Harry nodded, taking the words as an invite. He scrambled into the bed next to the other boy.

"What's Beltane?"

"A day halfway between the spring equinox and the summer solstice."

"Huh?"

"Muggles call it May Day and celebrate it on the first of May. Wizards use it for a day of ritual, symbolizing rebirth or renewal."

"So it's a real thing?"

"Of course it's real," Severus grumbled into his pillow.

"Can curses kill people?"

"By definition, curses are spells meant to harm," Severus mumbled, "so yes."

"Can a person be cursed and not know about it?"

"You tell me. I'm cursed with your constant nattering," Severus mumbled, half asleep.

Harry thought about that for a moment. "But—"

Severus loudly snored before he could get the question out.

Harry didn't get any more sleep that night. He lay away all night, listening to his brother breathe.

* * *

"What was your nightmare about?" Severus asked as he supervised Harry's brewing.

"Dream?" Harry paused in his slicing of some kind of root into small cubes. "What dream?"

"The dream you had last night," Severus sighed irritably as he watched the boy play dumb. He was tired, with shadows under his eyes. "You didn't crawl into my bed last night because you were dreaming about puppies and rainbows."

"I don't remember," Harry brazenly lied as he yawned.

Severus studied the boy for a moment. "I can tell when you're lying."

"Yeah, I know. I just don't want to talk about it."

"You have a tendency to excessively chatter about the first thing that crosses your mind, dreams included." Severus studied Harry for a moment longer, the hair on his neck standing. His instincts were screaming at him, telling him to demand answers. "When has this changed?"

"Since today. Please let it drop."

Something was going on, but he'd let the boy keep his secrets, for now. "I think you'll benefit from increased occlumency practice. I'd like to increase our practice sessions to every night, before bedtime."

Harry bit back a groan. The biweekly practices left him with a headache and made him feel sick. He didn't mind if the other boy saw his memories. But now, for the first time, he had a secret he needed to keep from the other boy.

"No! Read the instructions! The roots go in after the doxy wings!"

"Oh, right," Harry muttered, his mind still on the dream last night and their upcoming lessons. If the other boy finds out about the curse, would it hurt him? He'd have to find a way to either stop those lessons or keep the other boy out of his mind.

He could simply refuse the lessons, but the other boy would demand a reason. When he refused to say, he'd enter his mind and find out. Could he run away? Maybe, but where would he go? He'd live under the bridge by the river if it kept Stevie safe. He could go back to the Dursley's, but that was an option he'd save that a last resort.

Harry looked up at the calendar on the wall. It was dated 1979, but it showed all the months. It was mid-April now. He had two weeks until May. He had two weeks to find his way to the creepy house on the hill.

* * *

"Potter, you idiot," Corvus said in a near perfect imitation of the older boy's voice. He then bobbed its head in bird-like amusement. "You idiot."

Harry glared. The first time he said it, it was cute. It was quickly getting old. Over the past few months, the bird was picking up a number of words and making a nuisance of itself, much like an unruly parrot. "Can't you teach that bird to say something else? Or better yet, how to shut up?"

"Shut up," the bird said in Harry's voice.

Severus looked up from his book, apparently able to tune the annoying bird out. "Ignore him and he'll stop."

"You idiot. Shut up. Caw!" The bird said as he moved from his usual perch on the back of the chair to the desk. The bird waddled across papers, scattering them every which way. The last straw was when the bird almost knocked over the inkpot.

"Put the bird outside."

"Why don't you just ignore him? He'll get bored and stop if you don't pay him any mind. He's just like a child."

Severus glared at his words being thrown back at him. "Just do it."

Harry opened the window. Corvus looked at it, disdainfully, determined to stay inside where it was warm. "How? He doesn't want to go outside."

"His brain's the size of a walnut. I'm sure you can figure it out," Severus absently said as he picked up his notes.

"He bit me the last time we went through this! You do it! He's your bird!" He always thought the bird was a little creepy, but now he was a little scared of the sharp beak. He missed the gentle owl, Pepper.

"I've warned you to keep your fingers away from his beak."

"How's that my fault? Every time he pecks at me you say it's my fault!"

"Potter, you idiot," the bird said.

Harry scowled, and then made a lunge for the bird. Corvus flew up to the curtain rod, where it perched out of reach. With his beady little eyes, Corvus peered down at him. Harry swore the bird was mocking him.

Harry grabbed the mop and swung it at the bird. Nonplused, Corvus flew to the other side of the room, where he perched atop the bookshelves and began preening its feathers. Harry scrambled after him, then swung again. The bird flew back to the curtain rod.

"Outside!" Severus shouted, pointing to the open window. "Both of you!"

"Why do I have to go?" Hairy said as he watched the bird fly outside. The bird always seemed to listen to the other boy.

"You agreed to train him." He picked up a scroll and handed it to Harry. "Have Corvus deliver this order form to Mister Mulpepper's Apothecary."

The bird only seemed to deliver things half of the time, and then, the letters seemed to arrive at the destination late, half chewed, and muddy. Harry hesitated before taking the scroll. "How about you teach me about curses instead?"

"Chapter six of your defense text covers an introductory to the subject adequately. Go outside. I'm told children your age enjoy fresh air. Stay in the back garden."

 _Children my age?_ Harry shut the window and then looked outside. The bird sat on the fence, grooming its feathers. "I don't feel like going outside today."

"I've been neglecting your Occlumency. I suppose we can practice now—"

"I'd hardly call twice a week neglecting…. Fine, I'm going."

"That's what I thought," Severus muttered as he studied Harry. The brat was hiding something, and he knew Occlumency was the last thing the boy wanted to practice. "I suppose it can wait until tonight."

* * *

"Here, take it," Harry told the bird as he shoved the slip of parchment at it.

The bird glared at it, but took the rolled parchment in a clawed foot.

"Take it to Mulpepper's Apothecary," Harry instructed. "Take your time. In fact, I don't care if you come back. Mister Mulpepper sounds like he'd like a pet Raven. Or better yet, he could use you in a potion."

He knew the bird would ignore him. The stupid thing always came back.

Harry watched as the bird disappeared in the sky. Normally, he'd go back into the house. Today however, he wanted to avoid the other boy, less he accidently tell him about the curse. His eyes fell on the second story bedroom window above the porch.

The window belonged to the spare room where Stevie kept boxes of books. Maybe there was a book about curses in there.

* * *

"What are you doing in here, sneaking about?" Severus asked as he stepped into the room.

Harry jumped, startled, almost dropping the book in his hands. "Nothing."

The room wasn't quite a library or din, as it was too disorganized to be either. The books stored here simply couldn't be stuffed into the overfilled bookshelves in the sitting room and wound up being stuffed into cardboard boxes. The darker books were kept here, most of which Harry couldn't read as they weren't in modern English.

Severus raised an eyebrow at the secretive, almost guilty expression, on the boy's face. "If you're looking for a book on dark curses I suggest the bookshelves behind my desk."

"I can't read those!"

"You can't read Latin?" Severus sneered with mock surprise, knowing Harry couldn't read most, if not all of the darker tomes in the house. "Oh my, that's a problem. I suppose you'll have to either learn Latin or read the textbooks I gave you."

"I'm not sure those are in English either," Harry stammered.

"The verbiage is dry and antiquated, but not beyond your comprehension," Severus studied the boy. "You don't need to sneak about as I don't care what you chose to read. I just ask that you don't leave crumbs or grubby fingerprints in my books. Some of them are quite old and valuable."

"Oh." Harry stared down at the floor, embarrassed at being caught.

"Oh indeed," Severus said as he returned the book in his hand to a box. "Is there something you wish to ask?"

"Is it possible to curse someone from a distance?"

"Most curses require physical contact or close proximity of some sort. Eye contact works for most hexes. Contact with a personal item owned by the target is a common delivery matrix for many curses. Bodily fluids, nail clippings, or cut hair work best. Several potions can deliver a curse, but those are rarely used, as poisons deliver better results. Why?"

"Um, just wondering."

"Hmm," Severus closed the box up again, obviously not believing the boy. "Are you wondering about anything in particular?"

"Can a curse kill someone?"

"Ask your parents."

Harry blinked, speechless, as he felt his stomach drop. The blunt comment took him by surprise. Was he going to lose the other boy to a curse like he lost his parents?

"We've spoken about this, remember? The Dark Lord cursed them nine years ago."

"I know." It was a whisper, barely audible.

"Is there any more questions rattling about that empty brain of yours? Why the sudden interest?"

Harry shook his head. He felt tears well up in his eyes, but turned his head so the other boy wouldn't see.

"I'll leave you to your sleuthing then," Severus turned to leave the room, but then paused. "If you're going to sneak about, keep in mind that I can hear your footfalls from downstairs."

* * *

Harry read the chapter in the textbook. It was interesting, but didn't provide any answers in how to keep his brother safe. He slammed the book shut and threw it at the wall. Fear for Stevie was warring with frustration. It was sheer will that kept tears in check, for if he cried Stevie would press him for answers.

"Whatever did that book do to you?"

Startled, Harry jumped. "Nothing."

"Nothing indeed," Severus said with a raised eyebrow. "Ready for Occlumency?"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No. Not tonight. I've a headache. My scar hurts."

Silently, Severus studied the boy for a long moment. His dark eyes seemed to bore into his soul. "Very well."

Harry blinked. Surely it wasn't that easy, was it? He just had to say no to the lessons.

"We'll have two lessons tomorrow then." Severus turned to stalk away, then paused mid-step. "Oh, treat my books like that again and I'll use that invisibility cloak of your to wipe my ass."

Harry blinked in surprise at the older boy's words. He rarely used such language. Stevie was always precise and measured and every word planned before spoken. Harry suspected the crass language was because the older boy was unnerved.

* * *

 _Harry was back at the derelict mansion. Again, the dim room was lit by a single candle. He looked out the dingy window, and the lights of a small village cold be seen twinkling in the distance._

 _"_ _The lights of Little Hangleton are bright tonight," he observed, his voice sounding just like it did when he had the last dream. Harry tried to move, but he couldn't control his body. Someone else was in control, the owner of the strange voice. It felt like he was a stranger in his body._

 _"_ _Indeed, it is," the unseen voice said from behind him. "The muggles remain ignorant of your presence."_

 _"_ _Pay them no heed." He continued to watch the lights in the distance for a moment more._

 _"_ _The boy still hasn't found us."_

 _"_ _He will. I can feel it. He wants to find us, to save the traitor," he said. "He'll find his way to Little Hangleton by Beltane."_

 _"_ _Severus Snape turned his back on me, and he'll pay the price. Surely the boy knows not to trust him."_

 _"_ _He may have broken the mark, but he's still bound to me, as are all of my Death Eaters." Harry said. If this was true, then this meant the owner of the strange voice thought Stevie was once a Death Eater. How was that even possible?_

 _"_ _No, the fool boy trusts him."_

 _"_ _Despite this, the boy will find his way here to Little Hangleton in order to save_ Snape's life." _He laughed, gleefully amused. "He'll be here in ten days."_

Harry's eyes snapped open, his forehead ablaze, and his heart beating wildly. He rubbed at his forhead as the pain faded.

A soft sound at the door caught his attention. The older boy stood in the doorway, watching. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Harry whispered. "Just a dream."

"Tell me about it."

Harry shook his head. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Tomorrow then. You'll tell me what has gotten you rattled for the past few days." It wasn't a question, but a statement. "If you don't tell me by tomorrow night, I'll yank it out of your fool brain."

"Okay, I'll tell you, tomorrow before our Occlumency lesson."

In the dim light Harry could see the other boy hesitate. Finally, he walked to the bathroom, and then back to his bed.

He'd have to leave tomorrow, no later than the afternoon, before Stevie would want to practice Occlumency.

Finally, only after the toilet flushed and he heard the other bedroom door shut, did Harry allow himself to cry.

The worst part was, he'd be unable to say goodbye to the boy he thought of as his only family.


	19. To Save a Life

Chapter 18

To Save a Life

* * *

"Do you have an atlas of England?" Harry asked over his bowl of soggy cereal. He was unable to eat, his appetite having abandoned him.

"Muggle or wizarding?"

"There a difference?"

"Yes," Severus pointed to the bookshelves by the stairs. "Bottom shelf. Why do you need the atlas?"

"I'm just curious about geography."

"Curios are you?" It wasn't quite a lie, but the other boy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "The large leather-bound one is a bit outdated but lists both wizarding and muggle localities. It should quench your newfound curiosity about geography."

"Thanks," Harry muttered.

"Finish your cereal first. I'll not have you wasting the food I bought."

"But it's all mushy now."

"I don't care," Severus said.

Harry looked up and smiled fondly. He was going to miss the other boy's nagging. Maybe if he found a fix for the curse, he'd be able to come back. Stevie would be mad, but he'd be alive, and that's all that mattered.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. See? I'm eating," Harry quickly brought the bowl up to his lips and drank the mushy cereal. It tasted like ash in his mouth, and it made his stomach queasy, but he finished it.

Severus stood, done with his own breakfast. He grabbed Harry's bowl and dumped them into the sink. "You do remember our deal, don't you?"

"Yeah, I'll tell you about my dream tonight, after supper," Harry glumly replied. "Hey, how 'bout I make that casserole for dinner? You liked it, didn't you?"

"That'd be acceptable."

"Is there something you'd like better?"

"That'll be fine."

"Um, Stevie?"

"Hmm?" Severus said without looking up as he filled the sink with water for the dishes.

"Have I ever told you thanks? Thanks for everything you've done for me."

A bright red bowl slipped from his hand to splash back into the sink. It was one of the Fiestaware bowls Harry said was radioactive some months ago. He pinned Harry down with his dark eyes. "You'll tell me about your dream, now!"

"No. We had a deal." Harry the other boy's mind brush against his. He turned his head away, breaking the contact. "I'll tell you tonight."

He knew Severus was glaring at him, but he dared not meet his eyes. Instead, he stared at the floor. "Fine."

Harry slunk into the sitting room, to bookcase that held the atlas. Butterflies were fluttering in his stomach as he found the book and pulled it from the shelf.

It was thick and heavy, and the maps within were densely packed with information. It'd take him forever to find the little village, even with the help of the index. Harry signed as he flipped to the back.

As it turned out, the little village was circled in the index, and again on the map. The spiky script in Stevie's hand turned out to be directions from Cokeworth. As it turned out, Little Hangleton wasn't very far away. It was about sixty miles away, off of A59, somewhere between Harrogate and Skipton.

How would he get there? He didn't have money for the bus or train. Could he hike the distance in ten days? He remembered seeing an old bicycle in the neighbor's yard. Could he steal it and bike the distance? Or would the motorway be too busy for a bike? Could he thumb it? Aunt Petunia had always warned Dudley that hitchhiking was a sure way to meet an axe murderer.

Harry eyed the kitchen doorway. Stevie was just finishing up the dishwashing, and moving on to make a second pot of coffee. Quickly, he tore the page with the map and directions. He stuffed the page into his pocket and put the book back on the shelf.

"Find what you were looking for?"

"Um, yeah."

Severus waited a moment for Harry to elaborate. None was forthcoming. "And what exactly were you looking for?"

Harry shrugged.

Severus sighed. "Go study or something."

* * *

Harry looked about his room sadly. He'd grown to love the old room with its blue walls. He consoled himself by telling himself that as soon as he found a way to help his brother, he'd be back.

He grabbed his canvas book bag, and emptied his old homework out of it. He put the books and workbook on the desk, and threw the papers in the bin.

Next, he pulled out several changes of clothing and the jacket Stevie made Aunt Petunia buy him all those months ago. He made sure the remainder of the coffee money was in his pocket, along with a few twenty pound banknotes he stole from the pitiful stash of grocery money.

His bedroom window overlooked the front of the house, but the bathroom across the hall faced the back. Quietly, he took his bag to the bathroom. He opened the small window and removed the screen. There was just enough room to stuff the bag through. He swung the bag to the right, and let it go. It landed next to the garden wall, and hopefully, out of sight from the sitting room window downstairs.

Harry craned his head against the window. The old-fashioned bicycle could be seen next door, leaning against the back porch amongst the weeds. He couldn't tell for sure, but it looked to be a bit worn, but in working order. Hopefully it didn't have a flat tire or broken chain.

He bit back the feelings of guilt from his thievery. Lies, forty stolen pounds, and a soon to be stolen bike. It was wrong, but his actions were for the greater good. He hoped that someday Stevie would be alive to forgive him.

* * *

Severus listened to the sounds Potter moving about upstairs. Whatever the boy was up to, it wasn't studying. He finally heard the unmistakable sound of the bathroom door closing, followed by the sound of the window opening.

Why? The boy was small, but not small enough to fit through the window. And if he did manage to squeeze through, it'd be a long drop to the garden below. Surly, the boy wouldn't be that stupid to try, would he? Just as he was about go upstairs, he heard the toilet flush and the window close. He listened to the pipes groan as Harry turned on the tap to wash his hands.

He thought back to the glimpse he stole into Harry's mind. He didn't find much but feeling. There was overwhelming sadness, tempered by resignation. The boy had decided on something, and was committed to following the action through. Hopefully, the meant the boy had resigned himself to telling him about the dreams, though he doubted it. The boy simply gave in too quickly.

Harry was up to something, and every instinct in his body was screaming at him to find out what. He'd give the boy until tonight to tell him.

* * *

"Dinner's in the oven," Harry announced. "I set the timer for two hours. If I don't hear it go off, can you take it out for me?"

"And, pray tell, why wouldn't you hear it go off?"

"I don't know." Harry shrugged nervously without meeting his eyes. "I might be upstairs in my bedroom or the bathroom?"

Harry stood in the kitchen doorway. "I haven't seen Corvus."

"It'll be a day or two until he returns from London, assuming he doesn't stop to roll my correspondence through the mud."

Harry smiled sadly as he turned around back into the kitchen and walked towards the door. He didn't think he'd miss that stupid bird. Before he lost his nerve, he quietly opened the back door and stepped out.

His heart thudded in his ears as he ran to his waiting bag. He scooped it up and then squirmed under the hole in the fence to the next yard. There, he inspected the bike. The tires were a bit low, but he could fill them up at the petrol station down the road. Otherwise, the bike seemed otherwise functional. It was a big pink granny Schwinn, and the basket was decorated with daises. No wonder no one had stolen the bike before now.

With a bit of effort he pushed the bike towards the back wall, and the narrow alley beyond. It was difficult, but Harry was able to push the bike over the wall. He cringed at the sound of the crash. He looked back at Severus's house, holding his breath, waiting for the other boy to come running out of the house or peak out of the window. It didn't happen.

Despite himself, he was a little disappointed that Severus didn't come out to stop him.

Harry eyed the bike. He'd stolen a ride on his cousin's BMX a few times. But that bike was child sized, had training wheels, and was in good working condition. He didn't know if he could reach the pedals on the rusted pink monster before him.

Gathering his bravery, Harry threw his bag in the basket. He then threw a leg over the bike and hopped on. He pushed one pedal, then the other. It was hard work. Because of the flat tires and sized of the bike, Harry couldn't build enough momentum to keep the bike upright. He fell over to land face-first in the dirt and gravel. Pain exploded in his arm and knee.

He opened his eyes to see a pair of shiny old-fashioned black boots and the hem of a black robe.

"Going somewhere, Potter?"

"Not anymore," Harry groaned. He spat dirt, and surprisingly, a bloody tooth out of his mouth. It was one of his loose baby teeth, a molar.

"Get up."

Harry scrambled out from under the bike to sit in the gravel. His knee poked out of his torn trousers, bloody and starting to purple. His forearm hurt the most close to his body

"The next time you hijack muggle transportation select one with air in the tiers." Harry cringed at the coolly calm and collected tone of the other boy's voice. It spoke volumes, telling Harry that he was so mad that his feelings were bottled up.

"I was going to fill them up at the petrol station down the street." He could feel fear, anger, relief, and disappointment seething unseen in the other boy.

"I see." Severus shouldered Harry's book bag and picked up the bike to lean it against the fence. "This little jaunt was planned, though not well thought out."

Harry swallowed as he climbed to his feet and began trudging towards.

"Pick that tooth up, you little fool!" Severus snarled, his anger finally peaking through. "You don't leave bits of yourself lying about for a dark wizard to use against you!"

The tooth was lost in the gravel. "I can't see it."

" _Accio_ tooth!" The toot leapt into his hand and he stuffed it in his pocket at the wandless charm. "Get inside, Now! Go park that butt in the kitchen!"

Harry eyed the brick wall that acted as the back fence. It wasn't high, but he didn't think he could scramble over it one handed and with a hurt knee. He limped over to it, and made a pitiful attempt to hop over it.

Finally, he awkwardly threw his bad leg over it and then slide down the other side. All the while the older boy stood like an angry statue, glairing with his arms crossed across his chest.

* * *

Severus watched the little fool limp back to the house. He was too mad to help the boy, preferring to watch him limp. A discrete diagnostic charm showed that the boy wasn't seriously hurt, though banged up a bit. Maybe the pain would help nock some sense into the boy.

As soon as the boy disappeared into the house he leaned against the wall and covered his face with his hand. His anger gave way to relief. What would have happened if he hadn't of happened to look out the window when he did? How long would it have been until he discovered the boy was gone? No doubt it would have been in two hours when the kitchen timer went off. How far would have the little fool gotten in two hours?

Severus didn't believe in God, but he gave thanks that the boy didn't think of using the floo or that cursed invisibility cloak. The boy's muggle upbringing was finally working in his favor. He ran is hand through his hair and let out a shaky breath.

Obviously, Harry had been planning on running off for the past several days, but why? Would he try again? No doubt he would. The boy was tenacious and stubborn.

He followed the boy back into the house, to find the kitchen empty. He found the brat in the sitting room working at the lock on the front door. "This is a bad neighborhood, mind you. I keep that door sealed with the wards. Fortunately, I forgot to key you to it. Only I can open it."

Harry looked up, a guilty expression plastered on his face.

"And if you're thinking of crawling out the windows or using the floo, don't. I'll be modifying the wards to include bathroom window as well.

"You're keeping me prisoner here?" Harry glared.

"I suppose from your perspective, yes. What's the muggle verbiage your aunt used? Grounding? Yes, you're grounded."

"You can't ground me!"

"Watch me."

"I need to go!" Tears were streaming down the boy's face. "You can't keep me here!"

"No."

"I'm leaving!"

"No you're not," Severus reasoned. "Where to?"

"Home, back to the Dursley's. I hate it here, and I hate you!" The boy was crying so hard that his shoulders shook. "I want to go back!"

Severus blinked at the vitriol, more than a little hurt. He sensed that the boy didn't mean it, that he was trying to push him away, trying to make him angry. He schooled his face to one of cool indifference, but he couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice. "You're trying to manipulate me, hoping to anger me into letting you go. Why?"

"I'm not a liar like you! I just hate you, all right?" Suddenly the boy jumped up, and ran to the downstairs bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before vomiting. After a moment he finished, and leaned against the wall, still crying.

"Are you okay?"

"See? You make me sick," Harry weakly said as he leaned against the wall. "Please, let me go!"

Severus opened the medicine cabinet above the sink and pulled out a potion. "Here, drink this. It'll calm your stomach."

Harry took it, but instead of drinking it, he threw it into the shower. The glass vial shattered against the tiles and slid down the wall to land in the tub. The sound echoed about the small room. "I hate your stupid potions!"

"That's too bad. You'll be taking several for that fractured wrist and lacerated knee," Severus sneered as he dug about in the cabinet, looking for something. "You're about to experience the joys of black-market Skele-Gro, illegally brewed by yours truly."

The boy resolutely stared at the floor, saying and nothing. He hadn't mastered Occlumency, but knew better than to meet his eyes.

"Count yourself lucky I haven't any truth serum in my stores, after the stunt you pulled," Severus snarled, lying, closely studying the boy's reactions as he spoke. Harry seemed to relax a bit at the statement, indicating he had a secret he was desperate to keep. "Though I've found Legilimency to yield better results for interrogations."

Snot began running down the boy's face, so he threw a towel at him. "Blow your nose, and roll up your trousers so I can treat that knee."

"No."

Severus sighed. That was a word he didn't hear often, especially from the normally good natured boy. "Go upstairs and put on your pajamas, the old loose ones, so I can clean the dirt out of your knee."

In answer, Harry buried his head in his arms and his crying intensified. His shoulders shook with the sobs.

"Fine. We'll do this the hard way then. I'll magic a calming drought directly into your stomach."

"Please Stevie, no. Let me go. You have to let me go." The child was beginning to panic again. "Don't drug me."

"Tell me why I shouldn't."

"I hate you!"

Severus hesitated for a second before tapping a vial with his wand. He normally avoided wanded magic, but he doubted anyone would be looking for his magical signature. In this instance, it was worth the risk. The charm was too complex to be done wandlessly. Most potions couldn't tolerate the magic in the dosing charm, but calming droughts were an exception.

It worked almost instantly. The boy's eyes dilated and glazed over, and his tens body slumped. Legimancy would be almost useless, as the potion worked by blanking the mind and dulling emotion.

Harry wasn't exactly cooperative, but didn't object when Severus pulled up his trouser leg to expose his knee. Severus winced. The skinned knee was worse than he thought. A large patch of skin was scraped off, and the surrounding area was purpling. He cleaned the dirt and gravel out of it and drizzled a potion over it.

"Care to tell me why you tried to run off?"

"No, can't tell Stevie," the words were slurred. "Stevie can't know."

"Tell me. I promise not to tell him."

Harry opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. He shook his head, trying to clear it. "You're trying to trick me."

"Can't get anything past you," Severus muttered with a sigh as he gathered more potions and a wet washcloth. It was worth a try. "Get up."

Harry blinked owlishly, fighting off drowsiness. The sleeplessness of the past several days was catching up to the child.

"Let's get you upstairs and into your pajamas." He had to pull the dizzy and uncoordinated boy up. The boy stumbled and he had to stop Harry from catching himself with his injured arm. "Be careful of that wrist."

"It doesn't hurt anymore," the boy slurred as Severus steered him up the stairs. "It's better now."

"Of course it doesn't hurt. You're sedated, drugged."

Severus deposited the boy on his bed and pulled his sneakers off. "Would you care to share with me what this is about?"

"It's a secret."

"As I gathered," Severus sighed as he tossed the boy's shoes aside. "Your stubbornness isn't doing you any favors."

"I feel sick," Harry muttered as Snape helped him out of his trousers and into the pajama bottoms.

"There's nothing to be done about that. You broke my last vial of Stomach Soother."

"Sorry."

"You'll be even sorrier when I feed you the Skele-Grow. Now hold your arms up."

"My head hearts," Harry muttered as Severus helped to pull the bloodstained shirt off the boy and replace it with a clean one.

"I imagine it does," Severus replied as he dug the vials of potions from his pocket. "Your chin and cheek are scraped up."

"No, not that. My forehead, my scar, it hurts."

Severus's breath caught. Somehow, this was tied the boy's scar? "How long has it been hurting?"

"I dunno, several days."

"Clear your mind."

"You keep saying that, but it never works. My head feels empty," Harry drowsily slurred. "Emptier than usual."

"How can you tell?" He'd planned on letting the boy suffer through the discomfort of the Skele-Grow, but changed his mind. He pulled a dreamless sleep potion out of a pocket. "You think you had a vision, don't you?"

"Shush, it's a secret."

"You do realize that this so-called vision can be a byproduct of your imagination and fears, don't you?"

"The one about Mister Anderson was real, and the one with the snakes too."

"The magical residue in your curse scar appears to be interacting with something. It doesn't necessarily mean anything of significance." Conversely, it could also mean that the opposite was true. He kept that thought from the boy. "Here, drink this one first, then the dreamless sleep."

Without argument, Harry drank the potions. "Stevie?"

Severus pulled up the pajama leg, exposing the bruised and skinned knee. "Yes?"

"I don't really hate you."

"I know. You're not a skilled liar. Why did you say it?"

"So you'd hate me enough to let me go."

"I'm sure that made perfect sense in your addled brain."

"I can't tell you why," Harry muttered, his tongue loosened by the potions. "But I still have to go."

"I know you believe that." He began cleaning the knee with a washcloth. "Where were you going?"

"Little Hag, hang, um, Little Hang-something," Harry mumbled drowsily, fighting against the potions.

"Little Hangleton?" Severus thought back to a dream Harry mentioned not too long ago, about a mansion on a hill. Was he talking about Riddle Manor? How could the boy know about that?

"Yeah."

"Why?" Severus threw the bloody washcloth to the floor. He didn't believe in coincidence. This had to do with Quirrell or Death Eaters. "Tell me why you were going there."

"Can't tell you."

"Listen to me Mister Potter," He grabbed the boy's chin to force the boy to look at him. "You're not to go there. You're to stay away from Little Hangleton. There's nothing there for you."

Harry owlishly blinked up at him, on the verge of sleep.

Severus doubted the potions addled boy comprehended his words. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."

The boy's eyes fluttered shut. He glanced down to the floor, spying the discarded trousers. A corner of paper peaked out from a pocket. He pulled it out, finding the torn page from his atlas.

He was smarter than the boy. He'd ferret out the truth one way or another.

* * *

Harry stumbled down stairs. His wrist was a bit tender, but seemed fine. One of the last of his baby teeth was missing, and his chin was scraped.

"I see you finally decided to wake up," Severus said from behind his newspaper.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Roughly twenty-four hours." Severus looked over the top of his paper. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"You gave me a potion in the bathroom."

"Do you remember what you said after, as I helped you upstairs?"

"No."

Severus smirked. "Go eat. I'm sure you're hungry, and then we'll talk."

Stevie was wrong. He didn't feel hungry at all, but went into the kitchen anyway. There he found a cold dish of the casserole he made yesterday. Mechanically, he ate it, all the while Severus read his paper.

Finally, Harry finished and joined Severus in the sitting room. "An unfortunate side effect of the potions I gave you is that it tends to loosen the tongue. You told everything."

"I told you?" Harry's face drained of color. "I don't remember. Did I really?"

"Yes, you told me everything," Severus set the paper aside and crossed his legs. "I'm a Slytherin and a master Legilimens, Harry. There's very little that can be kept from me. Remember that, the next time you keep something from me."

"But the curse, it's going to kill you!" Harry said, not sure what a 'Slytherin' was, other than it had something to do with Hogwarts.

"There's no curse," Severus's face was schooled into one of careful neutrality. "The dreams about Little Hangleton weren't real."

"It was real. I know it was! The curse can still activate on Beltane!"

"Do you even know what Beltane is?"

Harry shook his head. "A day?"

"Beltane is a holiday, much like Samhain. Magical rituals are commonly performed on that day. Furthermore, had you come to me, I would have told you that curses do not work that way."

"But I did ask you! You said dark curses can work from a distance."

Severus pulled something from his pocket and held it up. "Recognize this?"

Harry blinked at the seeming change of subject. "It's my tooth, the one that I lost yesterday."

"Yes, the one you spat on the ground. Do you remember my ire?"

Harry nodded.

"The curse that fell your parents, _Avada Kedavera_ , requires close visual contact. Most curses require something of the victim. The stronger the curse, the more it requires. Blood, bile, tissue, or perhaps a tooth, are required to inflict harm. Even then, I know of no curse that can kill over a distance. It must be affixed to a matrix."

"What does that mean in English?"

"Unless you've been mailing someone my toenail clippings, I'm safe. It's possible to deliver a curse through an object, so be careful of your mail."

"You're sure you're not cursed?"

"Have you been sending someone pieces of me?"

"No! Who'd want your nasty old toenails?"

"Then no, I'm not cursed," Severus said as he pulled out two crumpled pieces of paper. "Do you recall what I said would happen to that cloak of yours if you damaged another of my books?"

Harry's eyes widened. "You didn't!"

"No, but I've put the cloak away until you can be trusted with it."

"It's mine! You can't do that!"

"I believe I just did. You're 'grounded'. You'll also find the television, your phonograph, and wireless to be non-functional."

"What's a phonograph?"

"The record player in your room, you dimwit!"

"Oh," Harry said. That wasn't so bad. The only records he had was old people rock from the 1970's. The only radio station he got was an AM Christian talk station. The black and white television only got several channels. This wasn't too big of a loss. "And I suppose I have to do extra chores too?" Harry mocked.

"Since you seem to enjoy gardening and cooking, no. I'll take over those tasks."

"You can't do that! You'll poison us! And your potion weeds need to be harvested!"

"Believe it or not, I can manage to feed us both and do a bit of light gardening," Severus smiled nastily, then picked up an old book. "I suggest you take this time to relax with a good book. I recommend this one."

" _The Veiled Mind, Occlumency for the Beginner_?"

"The verbiage is a bit dense. Ask me if you get stuck. I'll be quizzing you."

Harry studied the other boy. He felt relieved that he was okay. However, he still felt the nagging feeling at the back of his mind. What if he was wrong? What if the other boy was still in danger, and the dreams held a clue on how to help?

* * *

"Where's that damn bird?" Severus glared out the kitchen window into the back garden. "It's been five days. The damn thing should be back by now."

"He's probably rolling your letters through the mud." Harry glumly said over his bowl of nasty cereal. True to his word, the other by made him suffer through his cooking over the past several days. "I want to fry up some eggs. When can I start cooking again?"

"When I believe you've suffered enough," Severus grumpily snipped as he rinsed out his empty bowl. "I thought you said you trained that behavior out of him?"

"How am I supposed to do that? Roll up a newspaper and smack him over the nose?" Harry shrugged. "He did okay bringing you the newspaper."

"This is why owls are used. Owls are too emptyheaded to get sidetracked by bits of foil." He threw away a small pile of shiny candy and gum wrappers and odd bits of baubles the bird had tracked into the house. His favorite seemed to be bits of broken headlight reflectors.

"We need a lid for the trash bin. He's likely to pick that stuff out again. He loves garbage."

"Or you could spray him with the squirt bottle every time you see him playing in the rubbish bin or dragging junk into the house." Severus refilled his coffee mug and sat back down at the table. When Harry wasn't looking, he added a small spoonful of sugar from the bowl.

"He's on to me," Harry said, pretending not to notice the stolen sugar. "He stays away every time he sees me get the squirt bottle."

"I feel obligated to point out he's just a bird. You should be able to outsmart him."

"I feel obligated to point out that he's your bird."

"You have ten minutes, and then we're practicing your Occlumency."

Harry bit back a groan. "Why bother? I'll never be able to block you out."

"True, you may never learn to block me out. However the goal isn't to block me out, but to shield your mind from foreign intrusion. Something is interacting with the magical residue left in your curse scar. It's influencing your dreams, and that needs to stop."

Harry suppressed an eye roll. He got the lecture several times a day and it was quickly getting old.

"Did you have that dream again last night?"

"No, they've seemed to have stopped."

"You're to tell me if that scar hurts." Severus glared, his dark eyes looking as black as night. "No more secrets."

"Does anyone live next door?"

"No. The house has been empty for some time."

"Does that mean no one owns the bike?"

"No, someone likely holds the deed to the property, which includes the bike. A muggle bank, a mortgage company, or a land developer perhaps."

"But a person won't miss it if it's gone?"

"Not likely. The woman who owned it hasn't lived there for years."

"Can I have it, and fix it up? I've always wanted a bike."

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's too big for you, for one thing. You'll fall off it and break your fool neck! And for another, it's not ours. And finally, I don't trust you not to run off the next time your imagination bakes-up one of those dreams."

"If it's all in my imagination, then why are you teaching me this Occule-stuff?"

"Get into the sitting room, and clear that fool head of yours."

* * *

The washing machine left him stymied.

Years ago, before she died, his mother used it regularly. As a boy he paid the appliance no mind, dismissing it as 'female muggle crap'. Charms worked better anyway. When he came back to the house several years later, he assumed it had broken with age. He then cut the electricity to the house and it was a moot point.

But now he needed to wash a load of laundry and couldn't turn the damn thing on.

"Potter!"

There was an indistinct muffled response.

"Get in here!"

"Hunh?" Harry stumbled into the mudroom, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He'd ask the boy to read another chapter in the Occlumency. Obviously, the brat took a nap instead.

"Have you been napping when I asked you to read those chapters?"

Harry said more with his eye roll than words ever could ever say.

"The washing machine appears to be broken. Fix it."

"Broken? It's not broken." Amused, Harry added washing powder, then stopped when he saw the contents. "You shouldn't put your white shirts in with those socks Professor Dumbledore sent us for Christmas."

"It'll be fine." He was an expert on the Dark Arts and complicated Potions. He could figure out something vapid muggle housewives did on a regular basis.

"But you shouldn't put the socks in there."

He'd run out of clean socks the other day and had been forced to wear the brightly colored things. He wasn't happy about it. "What are you babbling about, you foolish boy? They need to be washed."

"Never mind. You have to pull out the dial to start it, and then push the button. The start button won't work unless you pull out the dial first," Harry demonstrated. After a bit of groaning and rattling, the machine began filling with water. "Happy washing."

* * *

"Cereal, again? For lunch?"

Severus glared over his tea cup.

"Are you sure you don't want me to cook lunch?" Harry glanced at the beans soaking in a bowl on the counter for tonight's dinner. Yuck.

"No."

"You do realize that you have to eat that slop too, don't you?"

"Believe it or not, I've managed to feed myself far longer than I've known you. I'll survive." He didn't mention that for most of his adolescent and adult life, house elves fed him and did his laundry. As a child before Hogwarts, his mother cooked for him. As a teen during the summers, he illicitly used magic to do his laundry. He had rarely did household chores, and never without the aid of magic.

"You sure you won't change your mind? I'll show you how to bleach your pink shirts."

"I can manage that with a color removal potion," Severus snipped. "Your negotiating skills are lacking and need some work."

"Bleach is quicker and easier than a potion," Harry shrugged. He decided he'll cook his own meals from now on and let the other boy fend for himself. "And you shouldn't have put your pink shirts into the dryer. It sets the color, but what do I know?"

"Apparently you don't know chorine is a lethal chemical. Muggles have used it in warfare to devastating effects. I'll not be using it on my clothing."

"It's not that bad," Harry reasoned, not knowing what the other boy was babbling about. "We drink it every day in water."

"My pipes have been charmed to filter muggle contaminates out."

"But don't they put the chlorine in the water to keep people from getting cholera?"

"Shut up and eat your cereal."

* * *

"That your bleach potion?" Harry asked as he walked into the kitchen. "Fixing your shirts?"

"No. I don't have a sufficient supply of billywig venom." The older boy sprinkled something into the caldron. "They'll have to wait."

"Then what's that?" Harry looked at the lumpy brown mass in the cauldron with distaste, hoping it wasn't supper.

"A tracking potion, one commonly used by Deatheaters and serial killers alike," Severus said nastily. "Nothing you'd be interested in."

Harry shrugged as he scratched at the scab on his chin. The other boy was right, he didn't care.

"Don't pick at that." Harry rolled his eyes, but stopped when his eyes caught the bottles of ingredients on the counter. "Is that my baby tooth?"

"It's not mine. I'm smart enough not to leave bits of myself lying about."

Harry wrinkled his nose at the thought of the other boy harvesting bits of him for his nasty potions. Felling another impending lecture, Harry quickly changed the subject. "Still planning on beans for supper?"

"Yes."

Harry decided he didn't need to ask for permission as he wrinkled his nose. When the other boy was busy elsewhere, he'd simply make himself a grilled cheese and a bowl of tinned soup. It'd be finished by the time Severus sat down to eat his icky beans.

"Don't you have an Occlumency book to study?" Severus snipped.

"I read the chapter you told me to."

"Did you understand it?"

"No."

"Then go read it again, until you figure out how to clear that empty mind of yours."

Harry sighed. The other boy wanted him to learn it, but had yet to explain sufficiently how to do it. "Does mind numbing boredom from boring books count?"

"No. Go."

Harry stayed put, not liking the bossy tone in the other boy's voice. Pointedly, he sat down at the kitchen table. "I'll get right on that."

"I thought you wanted to learn magic."

"Yeah, but that's before I learned how bad of a teacher you are. You only teach me boring stuf."

"You'll learn enough foolish wand waving next year. I'm sure that'll be more to your taste."

Harry didn't know how, but felt like that comment was an insult to his intelligence. "Have you seen Corvis?"

"No. The longer he's gone, the less likely he'll come back."

"Don't you miss him?"

"Not particularly," Severs mumbled distractedly as he turned the page of a big potions book open on the counter. "The damn bird was a menace. I'm not sure how I'm going to replace some of those research notes he chewed up."

Harry knew the other boy was lying. He missed the bird and was acting snippier because of it. "But—"

"Go read your book and leave me in peace so I can finish this!"

"What's it for?"

"GO!"

"Fine."

* * *

"No!" Severus shouted at Harry. "Clear your mind! It shouldn't be difficult for that empty head of yours!"

"But you won't tell me how!" Harry shouted back, frustrated, barely holding back tears. The headache building behind his eyes didn't help.

"And I've told you that I cannot! Every mind is different. What works for me will not work for you."

"What about the game we used to play? That was kinda fun."

"The purpose of that exercise was to teach you to recognize a presence in your mind. I'd hoped it'd teach you to focus and order your thoughts as well."

"We could do that instead of this. That didn't give me a headache."

"No. You've mastered the task and it's time to move on. You need to be able to expel a foreign presence from your mind. If you don't, you'll continue to be vulnerable to intrusion. The headache is part of the learning process."

"But I don't mind you in my mind," Harry wined.

"You're an idiot." Severus shut his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. It was getting long and shaggy looking. "You spent a long time in the bathroom this afternoon. Let's find out what you were doing."

"That's privet!" Harry's eyes widened. "You wouldn't! You're bluffing!"

Severus stared at the boy with steely, dark, eyes. He had no desire to see what the pre-pubescent brat was doing in the bathroom, but if it would motivate the boy into blocking his presence from his mind, he'd give it a try. "Twenty minutes, at around three-thirty in the afternoon. What could you have been doing? Shall we find out?"

"You can't!"

"Prepare yourself. Clear your mind."

"No!"

" _Legilimens_!" He was assaulted by a cacophony of frantic thoughts and images as he entered the boy's mind. Expertly, he directed the boy's thoughts to his time in the bathroom.

Unexpectedly, the boy refocused his thoughts to his study session this morning. Again he tried to pull up an image of the bathroom. Again, the boy's thoughts redirected him to his afternoon study session, specifically reading _Protection Charm Your Mind: A Practical Guide to Counter Legilimensy by Franciscus Fieldwake_.

Severus blinked, surprised. The boy did it, in a run about way. "Tell me, what are you thinking?"

"Can't you tell?" Harry moodily snipped as he rubbed his temples. "You're the one reading my mind."

"No, I wasn't. You've successfully evaded my probe." He didn't mention that if truly he wanted to, he'd break though the boy's mind with ease. "Now, what were you thinking?"

"I was trying to remember what the book said, how to clear my mind."

"You've yet to expel me from you mind, but you can chose what I perceive. It is after all, your mind."

"Hunh?"

"You didn't want me to see your secret, so you presented memories of the book instead. In essence, you cleared your mind by focusing your thoughts."

"So I did it?"

"Not quite, but it's a start. Prepare yourself. We shall try again."

* * *

"Tomorrow's Beltane," Harry said as he crammed a grilled cheese sandwich into his mouth.

"You don't say." Severus studied the boy as he ate. He looked apprehensive, no doubt he still thought he'd die tomorrow. "I assure you, I have no plans to die tomorrow."

"I know you said a curse like that was impossible, but the dream felt real. What if there's a curse like that and you just don't know about it? It feels like something will happen."

"You, like most children, have a vivid imagination."

Harry scrunched his nose. "Sometimes you say things that makes me think you're really an old person, like you're eighty or something."

"Eighty?"

"Yeah, old. Even those weird-o robes you like to wear are old, like something Dracula's grandfather would wear."

"Robes like this are commonly worn in our world, and I assure you, I'm quite a bit younger than eighty."

"I know." Harry rolled his eyes. "It's just a feeling I have, like I the feeling that something's gonna happen on Beltane."

"If you're worried about something happening, then stay put. Do not attempt to leave the house."

"I know!" Harry shouted, irritated. "You told me, like twenty times already!"

"And I'll keep telling you until I'm sure the message has sunk its way through that thick skull of yours. I can't trust you. This is the second time you've pulled this."

Harry lost his appetite, and dropped his half-eaten sandwich onto his plate. "I said I was sorry."

"You said you were sorry the first time you ran off, if you recall." Severus's words were spoken without snark, but it still sent a sliver of guilt through Harry. "Whose turn is it to clean the kitchen?"

"I think it's yours," Harry lied. He knew very well whose turn it was. The boy knew everything, it seemed.

"I don't think so," Severus said as he deposited his dishes into the sink.

"Then why did you ask if you knew?" Harry glumly asked as he took his dishes to the sink. He began filling it with water do they could soak.

"Because I keep forgetting tact and subtly are lost on you. I'm going to go take a shower. Please limit the hot water usage until I'm done." Severus turned to leave the kitchen, but then hesitated. He studied Harry for a second. "Stay in the house."

Harry glared, but said nothing. He squirted dish soap into the filling sink, and then turned the tap off. He let the dishes soak as he wiped down the counters and table. Soon, he heard the sound of the pipes groan as older boy upstairs started his shower.

Ignoring Severus's request to limit water usage, Harry began washing the dishes. He took pleasure in turning on the hot tap, knowing that the hot water in the upstairs bathroom was turning ice cold.

With his mood considerably brightened, Harry finished the dishes. He was rinsing the last dish when he noticed the tapping at the window above the sink.

"Corvis!"

The raven pecked at the glass, demanding to be let in. In its claw was a rumpled piece of paper.

"Where have you been? Stevie's been worried sick!" Harry pushed slid open the window wide enough for the bird to squeeze through. "You look horrible!"

Frantically, the bird flew about the kitchen, then into the living room. It dropped the rumpled and somewhat muddied paper onto the desk before settling atop the tallest bookcase. There, the bird tucked its beak under a wing and huddled in pitiful-looking heap.

"What happened to you?" Harry studied the bird. Its once glossy feathers were dull, bent, and frayed. Some appeared to have been plucked out in several patches on the birds back.

Harry picked up the rumpled paper and the bird screeched unhappily. The sound was earsplitting. Severus must have heard it too, as the sound of the shower upstairs turned off.

"It's okay, Corvis," Harry said as he unfolded the parchment and flattened it. For some reason, the paper agitated the bird. "It's just a piece of paper. See? It can't hurt you."

It was that old-fashioned looking parchment Stevie often used. On it was a single word, written in green ink, in a flowing script similar to the one Severus favored. He read the word aloud. "Daffodil?"

The instant the word left his mouth, the room before him dissolved and a feeling like someone pulling him by his belly button overtook him. The last thing he heard before he disappeared was the sound of the raven screeching.

An instant later, his feet hit floorboards and he stumbled to his knees. Before he could register his surroundings, a red light rushed at him and he knew no more.


	20. Blood of Thine Enemy

Chapter 19

Blood of Thine Enemy

* * *

"Harry, shut that ruddy bird up!" He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he was happy that the raven found his way back home. "And give it something to eat. I put the owl treats in the kitchen cupboard."

The boy didn't answer him, apparently still in a snit. Harry had ignored his request to not turn on the tap while he was in the shower. He made the request knowing the boy would ignore it. The petty and childish actions would go a long way in cheering the brat up. The boy wasn't mean spirited, but the prank would dissolve some of the tension that had developed between them at dinner.

Finally after several moments, the bird quieted as he ambled down the stairs. Glancing about, he spotted Corvis huddled atop his bookcase, his feathers ruffled. "What happened to you?"

Severus threw his towel into the laundry basket and grabbed the box of owl treats from the kitchen cupboard. He noted that the dishes were done, but the sink was still a mess with soap and water everywhere.

"Harry! Get down here and clean up this mess!" He shouted in the direction of the boy's bedroom as he grabbed a small dish and filled it with water for the bird.

He put the water and treats in the dish holder on the old owl perch. Normally, the glutinous bird would fly over to the perch to gobble the treats, whether or not fingers were in the way. Today however, the bird stayed huddled atop the shelves.

"Not hungry?"

The bird blinked down at him, then tucked his beak back under a wing.

"I guess there's a first time for everything."

The bird still sat quietly, seemingly afraid.

He glanced at the clock. It was almost eight, almost time for the boy's evening occlumency lesson. "Harry!"

Severus listened for the telltale signs of the boy's steps upstairs, but heard nothing.

"Harry?" The house was quiet, too quiet.

A nagging pit of dread made his stomach twist. Did the boy leave the house? He ran upstairs and threw open the boy's bedroom door. Nothing. He checked the bathroom. It was empty, along with his bedroom, and then the storage room. The attic was empty too. He ran back to the Livingroom and glanced about.

"If you're hiding Potter, you'd better pray I don't find you!" He threatened to an empty room as he peered out the window, looking to the back garden and finding nothing.

He checked the shed. While outside, he checked the wards. They were still intact and showed no sign of tampering. He checked the locking charm on the front door.

" _Homino revelis_ ," Severus almost shouted as he swished his wand, learning he was the only human on the property. He let out a string of vile epitaphs.

"You showed up and the boy disappeared." He looked up at the bird, who watched him wearily with one eye. "I do not believe in coincidence."

He leveled his wand at the bird and it exploded into motion, cawing and screeching frantically. The bird flew across the room, but wasn't quick enough to dodge the spell. The bird glowed red, revealing recent traces of foreign magic on the animal. Someone had used a spell on the animal, and now the bird was wary of wands.

After a few more moments, he found and canceled a tracking spell. He grabbed a small piece of parchment from his desk. After scribbling a short note he revived the bird. "Take this to Albus Dumbledore. Stay there. Do not come back."

Corvis glared at him with no small amount of trepidation. After a moment of coaxing, the animal took it in his beak and headed out the window. The note wasn't important. It was simply a means to get the bird away from the house. The tracking spell had been nullified, but he couldn't be sure there were other spells on the animal, or if the bird had been here long enough to lead someone to his home.

 _I'm going to kill the boy,_ Severus thought to himself as he evaluated his next move. He glanced at the clock. It was a little after eight. It would be Beltane in four hours. The boy believed something was going to happen then. But what?

Severus racked his brain for the kinds of magic practiced on this day. For ritualistic magics, Beltane was a time of birth and renewal. Light magics symbolizing new life or rebirth were practiced on that day.

Why would someone kidnap the boy for what was generally considered a holiday dedicated to light magics?

* * *

Harry was cold, and his head hurt. His neck had a crick in it, as his head hung heavily to the side. He tried to move it back on to his pillow, but the back of his head hit something hard. It defiantly wasn't his pillow. That thought woke him up a bit more, and he realized he wasn't laying down, but was tied up against something hard and cold.

Harry opened his eyes to a darkened graveyard. He as tied to an old gravestone, the magically conjured ropes cutting into his body, leaving his left arm numb.

A big cauldron sat before him, Just like Stevie's, but bigger. A lot bigger, big enough for a person to bathe in. The wind was icy and cold, threatening unseasonably cold rain.

"The boy is awake, my Lord," a man Harry couldn't quite see in the shadows said. The voice sounded familiar, as if it was strait from his nightmares. Harry knew it was the creepy man Stevie saw in the park all those months ago. And somehow, it was the same person he saw in his neighbor's house. "Shall I put him under again? He needn't be awake for this."

"No," an unseen person hissed. The second voice was raspy and sent a shiver down Harry's spine. Oddly, the voice seemed to make the pain in his scar on his forehead worse. "I wish to see the life leave his eyes as he dies."

He ignored the boy. "It shall be as you wish."

"Let me go!" Harry pulled at the ropes tying him to the gravestone. He felt them cut and dig into his skin.

"You're in no position to make demands of me, boy," the second person said mockingly. Harry squinted in confusion. The voice seemed to be coming from Quirrell's purple turban.

"Why did you kidnap me?" Harry's shiver had nothing to do with the cold night air. His eyes began to fill with tears. "Let me go. Please!"

Quirrell ignored Harry's pleas. "My lord please, you must save your strength for the ritual."

"Mind the potion! The time draws near."

"It awaits midnight and the final three ingredients."

"Stir it or it'll scorch, you fool!"

Quirrell grabbed a big siring rod the size of a broom handle with his gloved hand and Harry continued to struggle against his bindings. As he struggled, his thoughts turned to Stevie.

Was the other boy mad at him, thinking he ran away? Would he even come to look for him? Would he miss him? Did he even know that he was missing? Then he recalled that the last time he saw him they had fought.

Harry bit back a yelp and more tears as the sharp edge of the tombstone he was tied to scraped his wrist. With a bit of maneuvering, he was able to rub some of his bindings. The minutes seemed to crawl by, but he was able to feel the tether fray a bit.

Harry bit his lip as his heart thudded in his chest. Would he be able to do it? Maybe he could, with enough time.

"The brat has gone quiet." Quirrell looked up from the potion and studied the boy. Harry froze. "He's is up to something, my Lord."

"It's no matter, the time draws near. Douse the flame."

Steam rose from the cauldron, and Harry noted it was cold enough for his breath to fog.

* * *

Severus squinted at the crumbled map of Little Hangleton. He knew the old Riddle Manor estate lay atop the hill. Someone was trying to draw the boy there, and knew that Harry was in that general direction, less than a mile away.

However, the manor house was a big place. The boy could be anywhere. And odds were, whoever took Harry didn't want the boy found—or at least found alive.

As far as he knew, Dumbledore was the only person to express interest in the building. Until now, the few Deatheaters who knew of Voldemort's connection to the Riddle name hadn't venture there. When had this changed? Why did Deatheaters draw the boy there?

Anger settled into the pit of his stomach. He'd warned the boy against portkeys. He told the boy over and over, not to touch the mail. He also warned the boy not to leave bits of himself lying about—toenails, hair, blood could all be used nefariously.

Fortunately for the boy, the potion he made from the boy's tooth was for more advantageous purposes. He adjusted the two sticks in his hand and set off in the direction the dowsing rods pulled him towards.

* * *

The gravestone finally cut through the rope. Horridly, Harry grabbed at the frayed end before it could fall to the ground. His hand was numb so the tether fell through his fingers, followed by the rest of the length.

Before Harry's could so much as take a step, a gloved hand collided with the boy's head. Harry fell to the ground, stunned. His vision was too blurry to see the wand pointing at him.

" _Incarcerous_!"

New ropes wrapped around Harry's body and legs. Harry could only blink up at Quirrell as the man used the ropes to drag the boy towards the cauldron. "You were told to stay put!"

"It's time. Harvest the blood."

Nausea rolled in Harry's stomach as Quirrell threw him to the ground and roughly flipped him over with one hand. Without loosening the bindings, he slit Harry's wrist with the knife he held on the other hand.

Foggily, Harry realized there wasn't much pain compared to the pain in his skull. He felt the blood spill down his hand, where it tickled his fingers. Harry then felt the icy metal of a goblet pressed to the wound.

"I have the blood my Lord."

"Begin."

Harry craned his neck to watch. The movement sent shocks of pain through his head and waves nausea through his stomach.

Quirrell pointed his wand at the grave and incanted a spell. Dust rose from the ground and he directed it to the cauldron. "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

"Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed, you will revive your master." Quirrell hesitated.

"Do it!"

"Y-yes my lord." Quirrell took a deep breath and then took off his left glove. He sliced the little finger of his left hand off. It fell into the cauldron with a hiss. "Forgive my weakness, my Lord."

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe," Quirrell incanted, his face pale and gray with pain. He tipped in the goblet of Harry's blood. The potion frothed and boiled.

"Get into the cauldron."

"My Lord?"

"Get in!"

"But it's boiling hot!"

"Do it, now."

Quirrell shook his head and tried to take a step back. His body shook with effort as he fought some kind of internal battle with the voice. After several moments, Quirrell raised a shaky hand to the purple turban and pulled it off.

It fell to the ground, revealing a hairless head with two faces.

Quirrell's face went slack, except for his eyes. They were wide and panicked, rolling in his head. The second face opened its eyes and smiled mirthlessly down at Harry.

Harry could do nothing but watch in horror as Quirrell's body moved jerkily towards the cauldron of boiling hot liquid. He reached out and grabbed the rim of the cauldron with his damaged hand. As he gripped the metal, the flesh of his hand reddened and blistered. Tears streamed down the man's face.

The cauldron was tall, but not too much so. Quirrell first threw one leg in then the other. For a long moment the man stood in the blistering potion. Then either Quirrell's body gave out, or the magic controlling it ceased. Quirrell screamed as he collapsed into the liquid where he thrashed for several moments.

The screaming stopped, but the red liquid in the cauldron continued to roil and froth. So fixated on the scene in front of him Harry didn't realize that the magical ropes disappeared and someone was crouched next to him.

"Harry!"

The boy continued to stare at the frothing cauldron. Red sludge frothed and bubbled. It foamed over the sides of its container, where it coated the ground in red slime.

"Harry!"

"Stevie?" The boy blinked, coming to his senses. His voice was weak, as he was on the verge of passing out. Severus wasn't sure if it was from blood loss or a concussion. Either way, he poured a general first aid potion into the boy's mouth. It'd keep the boy alive long enough to get to either a healer or his potions stash.

"The potion will take a few moments to work," Severus said as he wrapped a torn piece of his cloak around Harry's still bleeding wrist. The freely flowing blood from both the lightning bolt shaped scar and wrist began to slow, but didn't stop. The boy needed more specialized healing than he could provide at the moment. "Quickly, we need to go before—"

The older boy's words were cut off by a figure emerging from the cauldron. He was naked, hairless, and his limbs were long and spindly. Oddly, he wasn't covered in the red goo that blanketed the cauldron.

Severus threw Harry's invisibility cloak over them both. They huddled together as they watched the figure step out of the caldron and don a robe. He then opened his hand and Quirrell's dropped wand flew into his grip.

Severus pushed his magical house key into Harry's hand. Silently, he brought his finger to his lips in the universal sign of 'shush'. He then gripped Harry's face by the chin and forced the boy to look into his eyes. The voice filled Harry's mind. _When I distract him, go._ _The wards end at the road at the bottom of the hill. You can use the portkey then."_

Harry shook his head and pain exploded behind his eyes. Severus's hand clamped on the boy's mouth, keeping Harry from voicing his objections. " _I can't. Hurts too much."_

 _"_ _Do it! Crawl if you have to! Just go!"_

"Harry Potter and Severus Snape." The two boys held their breath as the humanoid creature turned and focused his red eyes on them. "Come out now and I may show mercy!"

Severus gripped Harry by his arms and pulled the boy to his feet. Dizzily, Harry blinked as the edges of his vision greyed out for a moment. His hearing has an odd rushing sound and sweat collected on his brow. He wasn't sure if he could make it all the way to the bottom of the hill.

"I'm here, my Lord," Severus said as he stepped out from under the cloak before Harry had the chance to protest. He kneeled at Voldemort's feet.

"My loyal servant, you have changed," Voldemort smiled cruelly as he ran his fingers through Severus's hair. "Did you cut your hair?"

"Amongst other things, my Lord."

"Leave it to a potioneer to devise such a clever disguise, my little serpent. Of course you had help didn't you?"

"Another worked out the alchemy. I merely brewed the potion."

"False modesty doesn't suit you." Voldemort grasped Severus by the hair and roughly pulled him to his feet. "I doubt many could have work out the precise ratio of Philosopher Stone to dragon's blood. After all, Flamel hadn't work out the ratio when he gave you the recipe, hadn't he?"

Severus swallowed thickly. There was no point in lying. "No my Lord, he had not."

"Give me your arm."

"The mark is gone, but I am still bound to you." Severus presented Voldemort his unblemished left arm. The red eyes narrowed in anger as he grabbed the limb. "Such a mark of loyalty cannot be erased my Lord."

"Potter, the one you trust is my loyal servant." Harry stuffed a fist into his mouth to keep from crying out as Voldemort roughly pulled the other boy closer. "I know you are there, watching. I can feel you."

Harry held his breath and did not move. Silently, tears streamed down his face and his body shook in fear.

"Come to me or Severus dies sooner rather than later!"

"I believe the boy has fled, my lord."

"Lies!" Voldemort backhanded Severus. Severus flew backwards, but before he could hit the ground a curse struck him. " _Crucio_!"

Harry stood frozen for several long moments as he watched Severus scream and convulse on the ground.

"Stop!" His voice was drowned out by the sound of the screams.

"I'm here! Stop!" He threw off the cloak and took a shaky step forward. "Stop!"

"You should have come to me sooner." Voldemort looked at arrythe boy, but did not lift the curses.

"I'm here now." The screams were growing quieter. Harry frantically hoped it was because Stevie's voice was giving out and not because he was dying. "L-let him go."

Finally after another long moment, Voldemort ended the curse. Severus lay on the ground. His eyes were open, but unfocused. His limbs continued to twitch and shake. "Do you give yourself in his place?"

"Yes, if you leave him alone!"

"Foolish boy. You've no leverage to bargain with, especially when it comes to the life of my servant," Voldemort sneered, amused. With a bare foot, he kicked Severus over so he was laying on his back. "Before I kill you I have a question."

Harry blinked. A question? Both Voldemort's casual body language and tone confused him. The man spoke as if they were discussing tea, not murder.

"How did you do it? How did an infant with no discernable magical talent survive the greatest wizard since Salazar?"

"I d-don't understand what you're asking." Tears continued to stream down his face. The potion Stevie gave him was beginning to wear off. The pain in his forehead was beginning to build again.

"Did Severus tell you who sent me to kill you all those years ago?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry looked at the other boy. Most of the shaking had stilled and he seemed to be regaining his senses. He still blinked blankly at the dark sky.

"You mean dear Severus hasn't told you of his past?" The man mocked as he level his wand at the boy. "In 1980 dear Severus brought me the prophecy that will soon lead to your death. Once, he was one of my most loyal servants. And he is no child."

The words struck harry like a pile of bricks. Somehow, impossibly, he knew it was true, or at least half of it was. He knew that Stevie wasn't as young as him. He also knew that he had a dark past. But he know the other boy was loyal to him.

Harry had a hunch that he didn't quite understand. He made a rash decision based on it, only wanting to keep the other boy safe once he was gone. "Is that why he kept trying to bring me to you? Is that why he took me away from my Aunt and Uncle's house, away from the blood wards?"

"Goodby Harry Potter." Voldemort smiled, but Harry didn't see it. He fixed his gaze on Severus. Though his tears he saw the panicked fear in the dark eyes and knew he made the right choice. Severus began to move, trying to speak, but he was too weak. " _Avada Kedavra_!"

A rushing sound accompanied by a green light hit Harry's chest like an iron-clad punch. He fell to the ground.

* * *

Severus screamed, but no sound came from his lips as he felt the bond they shared rip from his soul. For the first time in months, he felt utterly alone. The happy go lucky presence he'd gotten used to was gone. He hadn't realized how much the bond had grown until he felt its stark absence.

His voice broken and tears were streaming down his face, but he didn't care. Not caring about the Dark Lord, who he believed was lurking behind him, he rolled to his side. His limbs were shaking too much for him to stand, but he managed to crawl to Harry's body.

Harry lay on his side, eyes closed, and was as still as the night.

He looked behind him, expecting to see the Dark Lord looming. But no. Voldemort lay on his back, several yards away. He lay prone, just as still as the boy.

He turned back to Harry's body. Severus felt numb with grief. He was too numb to think, so the slight movement didn't register at first. But it happened again, and then again. Harry's chest was moving with his breathing. It was shallow, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

Relief slammed into Severus, followed by fear as he heard stirring behind him. He turned to see Voldemort beginning to stir. He needed to get Harry away from there before the Dark Lord woke up, but he was too weak. He could barely crawl and Harry was unconscious.

As he evaluated his options, his eyes rested on Voldemort's dropped wand, a wand that once belonged to Quirrell.

Could he do it? Despite his dark past, he'd never successfully cast an Unforgivable before. He was weak and foreign wands were fickle. Would the wand even let him? Voldemort stirred again, prompting Severus into motion.

He crawled madly the two yards to where the dropped wand lay. He grabbed it just as Voldemort's dazed eyes opened.

Severus hesitated. Moments ago Voldemort cast the same spell he was about to and it rebound. Should he do it? Could he do it? Would it rebound on him too?

Voldemort's red eyes focused on him, then narrowed as he realized what Severus was about to do. "Severus."

It was now or never. There was no going back. He gathered his magic and focused his will through the wand. " _Avada Kedavra_."

He could feel the foreign wand hesitate before it broke free and pulled at his magic. For the second time that night, green light and a rushing sound filled the graveyard.

* * *

"Stevie!"

Harry's voice was pestering him, disturbing his sleep. "Go away," he said, or at least, he tried to say. His throat hurt too much. It came out as something between a groan and whisper.

"Stevie!" Severus threw an arm over his face to block both the annoying boy and the sunlight streaming through the window. "Wake up."

"Severus!" Harry never called him by his given name and that made him open his eyes. He squinted up at him. Severus reached into himself, felt for the presence in his mind. It was absent, but Harry was alive. Somehow, the killing curse had nullified it. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

The boy was a mess. Dried blood and mud was caked on his face, with clear tear tracks streaking down his cheeks. Twigs and dead leaves clung to his hair, fused to it with dried blood. He suspected that he looked no better, considering he was laying in the dirt.

His body ached and he could feel his muscles tremble with the after effects of the Cruciatus curse. He shut his eyes against the early morning light. He tried to ask the boy how long he was out for, but the ache in his throat stopped him.

"I was scared. You wouldn't wake up," Harry helped him sit up. He leaned against a tombstone. "I found another first aid potion in your pocket and gave it to you. You woke up soon after."

Severus looked around. They were still in the graveyard. It was early morning. The cauldron was still there, along with the dried residue of the red goo. Voldemort was nowhere to be seen

"Portkey?" Severus half croaked, half whispered. "Cloak?"

"Here they are." Harry tried to give them to Severus.

Severus shook his head, causing his head to explode in pain. "Put the key on, keep the cloak close," He whispered, closing his eyes against the pain. "Find his wand."

"Here it is. You dropped it when you passed out."

Severus grabbed at it and had to make two attempts. His fingers moved sluggishly and felt numb, but without fine control he was used to. Had the Cruciatus curse hit his adult body the damage wouldn't have been as great. But as it was, his pre-teen body need a neural regeneration potion and time.

He took a deep breath and stilled himself, gathering his magic. He motioned for Harry to grab on to him and apparated to Hogwart's front gates.

* * *

Harry curled up on the chair, hugging his knees to his chest. He alternately watched as Stevie slept and kept an eye on the door Madam Pomfrey disappeared behind.

For some reason Harry couldn't comprehend, the nurse wanted him to stay in bed. When he kept trying to get up to sit next to Stevie she'd shoo him back to bed. Finally, he was able to convince the woman he was asleep and she disappeared into the next room to do whatever it was pushy nurses do in their free time.

Stevie apparated the both of them to the gates of the big castle and them promptly fell into some kind of fit. A seizure the nurse called it, from the curse. Harry could only watch helplessly as the boy he thought of as a big brother lost consciousness and began to violently twitch. He was so panicked that he couldn't even clearly recall the moment when the old man found them.

"I see that you're awake," Albus Dumbledore said as he entered the room.

Harry's hart jumped. Would the old man banish him back to his bed?

His thoughts must have been clearly written on his face. "Have no fear my boy. I promise not to tell Madam Pomfrey you're up."

"She won't tell me if he'll be okay. She just keeps telling me not to worry, like I'm a child who can't understand."

"Young Mister Prince will be fine." The old man chuckled. "The curse he was hit with tends to have a greater effect on children as your magic is still developing. He'll need bedrest and some potions, but should make a full recovery. It will just take time."

"Severus. His name is Severus Snape, not Stevie Prince."

"Mister Prince had used the alias in the past, and it's the name that would have been his had his mother not been disinherited by her family," Dumbledore said. "This is a secret only the three of us know. In fact, I'm surprised he told you."

"He did something last Halloween. I can only say his name to him, and I guess around people who know."

"Ah yes, the secret binding ritual of some sort. Still, it'd be best not to say his name aloud. Someone may hear. In any case, that is his name now."

"All right," Harry nodded and stifled a yawn. He rubbed his eyes. They felt raw and gritty from crying earlier. "How long have you known him?"

"For a while now," Dumbledore vaguely answered.

"I know he's older than he looks." Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the vague non-answer.

Amused, Albus twirled the long ends of his mustache as he thought on how to answer. "I take it this is your runabout way of asking me how old Stephen is."

"I know he's really a grumpy old man in disguise."

Albus laughed. "Physically, he's no different from any other eleven year old boy. Mentally however, he's thirty-one. Grumpy, but hardly 'old'."

"Vold—I mean the Dark Lord—"

"It's all right Harry. You can say his name," Albus interrupted. "In fact, I encourage you to do say 'Voldemort.' Fear of a name is absurd."

"Voldemort said that Stevie is the reason he killed my parents."

"Voldemort is the one who killed your parents, and the blame lies with him. However, the secret behind his decision is a secret is not mine to share. When you get older, I believe Mister Prince will tell you. Until then, just know that he's a good person who's made mistakes in his youth."

Harry nodded and turned to watch to other boy sleep.

"If I may, I do have questions for you, if you're up to it."

Again, Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off of Stevie.

"How did you find yourself in Voldemort's company in the first place?"

Harry hugged his knees tighter to his chest as he told the tale.

* * *

Severus woke to an uncomfortably hot weight draped on him and an elbow in his ribs. He turned his head to see Harry draped on his pillow. He grimaced as spotted a stream of drool leaking out of the boy's mouth to pool on the pillow next to his head.

"Awake again, I see," Dumbledore said from his chair along the wall. A book was propped on his lap and a bowl of lemon drops sat on the end table. He looked like he had settled there for a long time.

"Please, can you move him back to his own bed?"

Dumbledore flicked his wand and the boy floated to the next bed over.

"The drool-soaked pillow too, if you will."

"You both seemed so comfortable cuddled together, so I let him stay," Albus said as he summoned a fresh pillow.

"You seem to have mistaken my state of unconsciousness as comfort," Severus snarked. "He drools and kicks in his sleep."

"You're sounding better than the last time we spoke. How do you feel?"

"Still a bit sore. A bit shaky."

"I meant mentally, about the bond."

"I'm not sure. There's some trace remnants of the bond left, but for the most part, it's gone," Severus sighed. "I'd gotten used to its presence, and now I'll have to get used to its absence."

Albus smiled. "Did Harry know about it?"

"Not consciously. Though, I'm sure he feels its absence on some level."

"I don't know the details, but I believe the bond's formation was tied to the curse scar on his forehead and the remnants of your dark mark. When Voldemort cast the killing curse, it somehow destroyed the magical remnant Voldemort left behind."

"I suspect the headaches and visions have ended too."

"I believe you are right," the old man said as he picked up a small bottle on the bedside table. "Poppy is busy with a transfiguration mishap. She asked me to administer your neural potions,"

Severus held out his hand. He was pleased to note that though still there, the trembling had greatly subsided. His fine motor control was still off he noted as he broke the wax seal on the vial. He gave the potion a sniff. "The fool who made this left it to simmer too long."

"You've been consuming them for the past four days. They haven't killed you yet."

Severus grimaced at the thought of consuming mystery potions, some of which while unconscious. He also hated the cheap mass-produced potions from Saint Mungo's apothecary on principal. "It's not nearly as effective as it could be."

"I'd say you're on the mend if you're complaining about the potions." Albus looked like he was trying to hide a smile. "Thirsty?"

Severus shook his head. "How has he been coping?"

"The concussion has healed, along with the blood loss and contusions. Physically, he's fine."

"What about nightmares?"

"No, but I believe Poppy has been dosing him with a mild dreamless sleep."

"I've spoken with Harry and viewed the memories you provided me when we spoke yesterday. But I do have one last question. How did you find the boy?"

"I suspected he'd be near Little Hangleton from those visions. Harry left a lost tooth lying about the house. I used it to make a tracking potion, a dowsing variety to be precise." Severus blinked against the drowsy gritty feeling in his eyes. He had about fifteen minutes before the neural potion put him under again. "I'd intended to use it to teach him a lesson."

"It seems fortunate you did. If I recall, that potion takes several days to make." Albus laughed. "Rest Severus. Poppy should release you tomorrow. We'll speak in my office then."

Severus nodded, the unsaid meaning clear. Dumbledore had news to share with him, but the information was best suited for the privacy of his office.

* * *

Harry had to jog in order to keep up with Stevie's long legged stride. This didn't leave him much time to gawk at his surroundings. There were students milling about, dressed in those weird robes. The portraits moved and spoke. There were moving suits of armor. The staircases changed position. He even thought he'd seen a ghost, but that was impossible, wasn't it?

"Keep up. I don't want you getting lost."

"Then slow down!" Harry grumbled as he hiked up his trousers. Someone procured them some clothing from the lost and found. Stevie found several outfits, but everything was too big for Harry.

Several twisty corridors, a moving spiral staircase, and a speaking stone gargoyle later, they were in the headmaster's office. The room itself was filled to the brim with strange objects Harry couldn't even begin to identify. The headmaster sat at a big desk. A big bird sat on a perch behind the old man.

"Harry, Stephen," Albus Dumbledore greeted as he waved a wand. "It's good to see to see the both of you up and about. I've set some wards so we may speak freely. Would you like some tea? A lemon drop?"

Severus ignored the question crossed his arms over his chest as he sat in one of the chairs before the desk. Harry could tell that he was angry.

"What the hell happened in that graveyard?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure." The old man took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. "I can only hypothesize. I'm sure I can only tell you what you've concluded yourself."

"Say it anyway."

"Voldemort briefly succeeded in regaining his body with a dark regeneration potion of some sort."

"And then I killed him," Snape concluded.

"No, not exactly. You merely killed the body he occupied."

"But then wouldn't there be a body?" Harry asked. "When I woke up, there was none."

"Not necessarily." The old man leaned back in his chair as he thought for a moment. "I can only surmise he's done something to tether his soul to this realm."

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious," Severus sarcastically bit out. "You've yet to sufficiently answer my question in its entirety."

"I do know it has something to do with Harry's curse scar."

Harry automatically touched the scar on his forehead.

"No Harry, not that one. Your new one, the one over your heart."

Harry had noticed the cut, but assumed he got it when he fell in the graveyard.

"It's a curse scar, like the one on your forehead. You received it when Voldemort cast the killing curse on you for the second time. You are the only wizard in history to survive the killing curse. You did this not once, but twice."

"Did that other man, um Quirrell, dissolve in the cauldron?" Harry asked.

"His body became a constituent of the potion," Severus answered.

Harry wrinkled his nose in equal parts disgust and confusion.

"He means yes," Albus translated. "Quirrell dissolved into the potion."

"That doesn't explain how he found my residence in the first place."

"When the wards at Harry's relatives fell Petunia Dursley was legitimized. This likely led him to Spinner's End. Apparently, he'd been observing your home from an abandoned house, just outside your wards. I suspect he saw the raven you've been training. Once he captured the bird, it was a simple matter to send Harry the portkey."

"You're just now telling me this?" Severus growled.

"I did not know until yesterday evening. I sent someone to check on the Dursley's and to survey your neighborhood." His vice then took on a chiding tone. "You knew the risks when you moved Harry from the blood wards, against my better judgement I might add."

"I had no choice in the matter," Severus grumbled.

"We all have choices, my boy." He then turned to Harry, almost expectedly for some reason. "Do you have any questions?"

Harry shook his head as he looked down at the floor. He had the feeling Dumbledore was expecting him to ask something.

"The boy hasn't inquired about his aunt's health. That itself should tell you about the toxic relationship Potter had with that bitch."

Harry's eye's popped open at the crass language. He rarely heard Stevie swear. "Oh, um, is she okay?"

"She's fine, but has had her memory modified," Albus sadly said. "Your whole family is doing well Harry."

"That's good." Harry couldn't explain why, but he felt bad that he didn't particularly care if they were okay or not. He didn't want to see them dead, but he didn't care about them either. Did that mean he is a bad person?

Albus scrutinized the Harry for several long moments. The silence felt thick to the boy, and Harry had to force himself not to squirm under the weight of the gaze.

"Was Quirrell behind the deatheater attack on the Figg residence last summer?" Severus finally broke the silence.

"No. Apparently Death Eaters had been using old ministry floo records find the homes of squibs residing in muggle areas. It's likely Quirrell saw the article in the Prophet and investigated Mrs. Figg," Albus said. "The other day I recalled Harry telling me about the Fon Book. He may have used that."

"Phone directory," Harry corrected.

"Yes, it occurred to me that he may have utilized this book to find Arabella Figg's residence."

"You didn't realize that this Voldemort guy could just look us up in the phone directory?" Harry asked, incredulous.

Severus winced at the boy's casual use of the forbidden name. "You need to realize that wizarding society is somewhat removed from muggles, Harry."

"Proper wizards don't use telephones. It wouldn't have occurred to them," Severus clarified. "How did he link Madam Figg to Harry?"

"It may have been coincidental, or he may have known of her connection to me."

"You know I don't believe in coincidence."

"No you don't, do you?" Albus smiled. "I wish I had an answer for you. We may never know."

"And what of Flamel?"

"He and his wife were found dead last fall, and with them, any remaining secrets behind the Philosopher Stone."

"Not exactly. Voldemort mentioned him. It's likely he was able to pick it out of his brain before his murder."

"Nicholas had the foresight to destroy the knowledge of his creation centuries ago, including his memories."

Severus snorted, doubting anyone would altruistically let go of such knowledge.

"I know what you're thinking, Severus. He truly destroyed knowledge of the stone. He knew the danger such knowledge represented to not only himself, but to humanity. With age comes wisdom."

"Who's Flamel?"

"Honestly, Potter. Haven't you bothered to crack open that history book I gave you?"

* * *

Harry lay in bed that night. They'd returned to Spinner's End that afternoon and Harry was happy to be home. The other boy was on edge, and had performed a series of complex spells. Warding, Stevie had called them.

Corvis was there, waiting for them. The bird's feathers were still disheveled, and the animal was a bit leery of them. However, the skittishness only lasted until Harry offered the bird a bit of ham. It wasn't long until he was back to his obnoxious self.

Harry smiled as he gripped the pendant the Stevie had given him all those months ago.

For some reason, the magic inside of it felt clearer than ever. Before it felt muffled, but now he could clearly sense the cool feeling of Stevie's magic thrumming through it. Harry smiled as he closed his eyes.

As he drifted closer to sleep he felt the second magical signature. It was almost eclipsed by Stevie's magic. But now that he felt it, he wondered how he could have ever missed it. It was warm, and bespoke of love, home, and protection.

 _If my mum were alive, I bet her magic would feel just like this,_ Harry thought to himself. Without understanding how why he felt different, he drifted to sleep to vague dreams of lullabies and peace, and without pain from his scar.

* * *

The End


End file.
